


Percival Graves/Newt Scamander Soulmate Drabbles

by TheRogueHuntress



Series: Soulmate AUs [7]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Bodyswap, Boys In Love, Falling In Love, Humor, M/M, Newt is a Dork, Romance, Self-Harm, Smitten Original Percival Graves, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Torture, single dad!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-11 06:08:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 20,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11708400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRogueHuntress/pseuds/TheRogueHuntress
Summary: A collection of soulmate AU drabbles surrounding Newt Scamander and Percival Graves for various prompts.





	1. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: write about someone casting a spell (or getting a spell cast) to find their soulmate.  
> Optional prompts: (Event) Yule Ball

Someone had cursed the mistletoe. Of course they had. Percival discretely aimed his wand at the vile plant edging toward him, and attempted to vanish it.

Nothing happened. Vanishing living organisms was notoriously tricky, especially those enchanted in some way. He glared at the offending vine, and wondered how much trouble Seraphina would give him if he simply set it on fire.

“I wouldn’t risk it,” a soft voice interrupted his train of thought. Percival turned, wary of whomever had snuck up upon him.

He was a handsome young gentleman with wild red hair, a crooked smile, and a gleam in his eye that Percival found he rather liked, perhaps even a little bit too much.

“Risk what?” he asked, keeping half an eye on the misbehaving mistletoe.

“Setting it on fire. You never know how the enchantment might react.”

“I wasn’t actually going to do it,” Percival grumbled. He turned and gave the man his full attention. “And how did you know that’s what I was thinking?” One Legilimens in the building was enough; he didn’t need another.

The man smiled as if he’d read Percival’s mind, again. “That’s the same look the dragons I worked with during the war would give us when we ran low on food.”

Percival arched a brow. “Indeed?” A flattering comparison, in his opinion.

He was flashed a wicked grin. “Oh yes. Newt Scamander, a pleasure to meet you.”

A name Percival recognised. He mulled over it as he shook the offered hand. “The man with a case full of mischievous creatures, by all accounts.”

Newt turned pink beneath his freckles, but his grin was undaunted. “That’s a polite way of putting it.”

Now Percival was looking for it, he noted the bowtruckle tucked away in Newt’s breast pocket. Surprisingly self-aware, the bowtruckle waved at him.

“Pickett, meet Percival. Percival, Pickett.” Percival nodded when Newt hesitated over his name, encouraging the familiarity. Pickett scrambled onto Newt’s fingers when they were offered.

“Would you like to hold him?”

Percival smiled. “Certainly.” He tried to take a step closer, only to discover he was trapped where he stood. A glance above him identified the culprit, and he groaned.

“Oh dear,” Newt said, tucking Pickett away, and attempting to hide his amusement by covering his mouth with his hand.

Percival was trapped under the mistletoe. Perhaps he could just set it a tiny bit on fire?

“This certainly is making for an exciting Yule Ball.” Newt’s wand was in his hand, and Percival recognised a few diagnostic spells. “What happened here?”

“Some moron was attempting to find his soulmate. Cast a spell on all the mistletoe so that it would trap whoever stands under it, and allegedly the only thing that can free us is true love’s kiss.” Percival pinched the bridge of his nose. There were several other people trapped, while the Unspeakables worked upon breaking the curse. They, however, were taking the spell to heart, and insisting upon kissing every person that walked by them.

Suddenly Newt was close, close enough to touch, close enough that Percival could just reach forward, and… he blinked, and cleared his throat.

“That is unfortunate,” Newt murmured. “Perhaps we ought to try?”

Without waiting for an answer, Newt pressed their lips together. Warmth flooded Percival’s body and he clutched at Newt, pulling him closer. For an instant, Percival forgot where he was, what he was doing, his entire world centred on Newt, until he pulled back, breathless.

“Did it work?” Newt was grinning, his eyes twinkling, and he skipped out of reach.

Percival huffed, and stepped forward, yanking Newt to him. He tensed in surprise, not actually expecting to have been able to move, but pushed his thoughts aside in favour capturing Newt’s lips with his own. Newt was laughing as he kissed him, and Percival knew that he was smiling too.


	2. Electricity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: you are born with words on your arm which are the first words your soulmate says to you.  
> Optional Prompts: (Word) Declare

"Stop right there!"

Newt blinked, and looked up. He'd just walked off the HMS Intrepid, the ship that had transported him over from England to the US. Being accosted on his first few steps upon foreign soil was a new one, even for him. Especially considering that those words were his  _words_ , written in beautiful cursive along the milky pale flesh of his inner forearm.

"Oh, well, I suppose that makes a lot of sense, then," Newt said, eying what he hoped was Percival Graves the original, rather than another imposter, storming toward him.

Graves froze. His gaze, which had previously been fixed upon Newt's suitcase, appraised Newt's person. Newt looked right back. Graves exuded an aura of authority, but it wasn't as overwhelmingly dark as Grindelwald's had been. He was dressed in a smart navy suit, no overcoat, as was appropriate for New York in the summer. He was extremely handsome.

Newt smiled at him, tentatively.

"You better come with me," Graves said gruffly, and tugged Newt away from the regular customs queue. They were waved quickly through the muggle security when Graves showed off his ID, and he didn't stop until they were out on the streets of New York.

Newt wasn't complaining. Being manhandled by his soulmate was entirely different to being manhandled by someone else. He found himself rather enjoying it.

Graves cleared his throat. "So, you're Newt Scamander? Tina warned – told – me about you."

His hand brushed Newt's as they walked along, perhaps by accident, perhaps not. It felt as if a spark of electricity had passed between them, and Newt shivered. Graves cleared his throat again, and looked to the side.

"I'm Director Graves. Percival, even," Graves said.

"Yes, I know." The words tumbled out of his mouth too quick to stop. "I met you, other you, the fake one, I – um, he – "

"Tried to kill you?" Graves said dryly. "Yes, I've frequently found this to be the case with every person the imposter encountered."

Warm brown eyes met Newt's own. "Thank you, for discovering what even my team could not."

Newt blushed. "Oh, uh, it was nothing."

Graves brushed their hands together again, and this time it was definitely intentional. "Not to me," he said gravely.

Newt grinned, and shuffled awkwardly, shifting his case from one hand to the other. It caught Graves' attention, and he frowned when he looked at it.

"Please tell me that suitcase doesn't contain a menagerie of magical creatures, most of which are illegal to bring into this country," Graves said.

"Ah, well. No?" Newt winced. He straightened his back, and tried to appear serious. "I've nothing to declare."

Graves sighed. "You're possibly the worst liar I've ever seen."

Newt smiled sheepishly. "Of all the things to be bad at…"

"Yes, very true."

Graves had led them into a side alley off the main street, hidden from muggle sight.

"Tina tells me you've not booked yourself any accommodation yet," Grave said. "I don't suppose – well, I have a spare bedroom. You'd be no trouble." Graves grimaced. "I mean, I'm sure you will be trouble. But, I guess you'll be my trouble."

Newt grinned, and took Graves' hand, clasping it in both of his own. He stepped closer, close enough to feel Graves' body heat. "I'd like that," he murmured.

Graves' smile lit up his face, and something inside Newt warmed at the sight. He gripped Newt's hand, and apparated them away.


	3. Agony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: You can take away some of your soulmate's pain for yourself.
> 
> Optional prompts: (object) knitted blanket

Percival curls in on himself as another wave of agony rolls through him. It's not his pain, but it hurts all the same – even more, because he knows that his soulmate is the one who's truly suffering. Mum wipes at his brow, and he sniffles into the knitted blanket she made for him when he was still in her belly, just waiting for him to come out.

"You'll be alright, darling," she whispers, stroking his hair. "You don't have to take so much of it. I'm sure they're grateful, wherever they are, that you're helping."

He wipes furiously at his tears. "Yes I do!" he argues. "If I don't, they'll hurt even more."

"And god bless them," Mum murmurs, quiet enough that he's not even sure he's supposed to have heard.

Percival sobs when the pain returns, reaching down their tentative bond to draw it into himself.

"Why is this happening?" Mum whispers. "Who could do this to a child?" She pulls him closer, hugging him tight.

Then, as quickly as the pain had come, it's gone, as if by magic. Percival gasps in relief, shaking and breathless. He pats his chest, checking his ribs, which only seconds earlier had felt splintered apart by heavy kicks to his side. They're perfectly fine. The pain is only phantom, caused by the soul bond.

More tears escape when he thinks of his soulmate all alone, attacked and frightened. "It's not fair!" he shouts, and Mum soothes him, wrapping his blanket about him and kissing him on the forehead.

"I know, sweetheart. I know."

* * *

Thirty years later, and it's Percival who's being tortured, this time with the cruciatus curse, and a strange warmth starts in his soul, spreading out to his limbs. He screams, and Grindelwald cackles, thinking he's broken, but Percival is just desperately trying to fight the bond. He doesn't want his soulmate to take his pain away, he doesn't want this darkness to contaminate them.

It's no use. The pain recedes, and Percival falls silent. Grindelwald, angry by his lack of reaction, curses him again… and again… and again.

* * *

He wakes in the Ministry med ward. There's a man sleeping in the chair beside his bed. He has fluffy red hair, and is wearing a turquoise jacket. Percival has never seen him before.

He shifts, and gasps as his nerves light up with electricity, residue from multiple applications of the cruciatus. The man next to him also awakens, green eyes sharp.

"Don't move," the man rasps. "You'll hurt yourself more." His voice carries a melodic British accent that is strangely peaceful. He stands up, comes closer, and places his hand on the bare skin of Percival's arm.

Percival sighs as his body hums with contentment, his aches fading away. Then his eyes snap open.

"Are you – did you do that?"

The man grins, his smile crooked. "Yes. Uh, hello. I think I'm your soulmate."

Percival fights his sheets, trying to get free. His soulmate holds him down, gently, and pulls the covers back for him. Percival captures the man's hands in his own, pianist's fingers dainty against his own large palms.

"Percival, my name is Percival," he gasps, and he can't stop his hands from shaking. He blames it on the torture, despite his soulmate's knowing gaze, and the warm smile that has his stomach doing flipflops.

"I'm Newt. Nice to meet you." Newt laces their fingers together, and his gaze turns sharp, although still unendingly kind. "And now I've found you, I'm never going to let you go."

Percival didn't know how much he needed to hear that until Newt had said it. "Nor I you," he says. "Nor I you." His eyes flutter closed as much as he tries to fight against his exhaustion, and sleep is quick to claim him. The last thing he thinks of is the warmth of Newt's hands clasped tightly around his own.


	4. Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: People can't see colour until they meet their soulmate. (Basically people can only see things in black and white and grey and when they meet their soulmate, colour appears).
> 
> Optional prompts: (word) noted & (setting) Hogsmeade

 

The boy's eyes were the same colour as the grass he stood on, a colour that Percival, previously, had only known academically was green. But now – now that he could see it, he realised there were as many shades of green as there were of grey. And that was just one single colour.

The boy's scarf was black, and what he thought might be yellow as it was like the sun, warm and inviting. His hair – Percival scrambled for the book that every unmatched carried around with them – his hair was apparently the colour of copper. He looked up, a grin forming on his face, and shoved the book back into his bag, racing toward the other boy.

Because the colours, well, they were fantastic. But not as fantastic as the fact that right there, the boy he'd set his eyes on when colours started sparkling into his vision, was his soulmate.

"Can you see them?" the boy asked breathlessly, clutching at Percival's arms. "I'm Newt, by the way, Newt Scamander. But the colours, they're just so…"

"Beautiful," Percival finished for him, already in love with the boy before him.

"They are!" Newt agreed, his eyes lighting up with happiness.

"I meant you." Percival hesitantly brushed his finger along a delicate cheekbone, tracing each freckle. Newt's cheeks darkened, the blood rushing to the surface of his skin. He wondered what that colour was called, and his hands itched to withdraw his book, and categorise every single bright and brilliant colour that Newt was made up of.

"Oh, uh, thank you." Newt smiled crookedly, eyelashes fluttering.

Percival absently noted that Newt was slightly taller. He didn't mind, turning toward Newt like a sunflower toward the sun, shivering when Newt reached out to touch him too, hands on shoulders clutching him close.

"My soulmate," Newt whispered reverently. "I never thought –" he paused, looked away.

"Me neither." Because at the tender age of seventeen, Percival was one of the last in his class to set eyes upon the other half of their soul. If he hadn't opted to join the History Societies' annual trip to Hogsmede, then perhaps he would have never seen Newt at all. When else would he have visited England? When else would they have encountered each other?

"I'm Percival," he suddenly blurted out, embarrassed to realise he hadn't yet introduced himself.

"Percival," Newt repeated. "A good name." He smiled playfully. "My knight in shining armour."

Percival faintly recalled the legends of the Knights of the Round Table, and so it was his turn to blush.

"Does that make you my king?" he replied archly.

Newt laughed, and Percival endeavoured to make him as happy and joyful as possible, if only so he could hear that sound every day for the rest of his life.

"I love you," he said, the words escaping before he could hold them back. Shock, amusement, and delight flittered across Newt's face before he tentatively leaned down, and pressed his lips to Percival's.

Percival couldn't help but moan, his hands shaking as he raised them to cup Newt's cheeks. They were both panting when he pulled back, foreheads pressed together.

A wolf-whistle made him jump, bringing them back to their surroundings. He glared at Sanchez, the culprit, his wand dropping into his hand in warning. Sanchez winked at him, then skedaddled into the closest shop.

"So, uh, you're from Ilvermorny?"

Percival turned his attention back to Newt, for the first time taking in his outfit, overcoat over school robes, and a suitcase in his hand.

"Yes, part of the school trip. And you're Hogwarts?" he asked.

Newt shuffled, not meeting his gaze. "I was just expelled, actually," he said, his voice low.

Percival kept the surprise off his face, just barely. "I'm sure there's a story behind that."

Newt glanced up at him sharply, and nodded.

Percival smiled. "Then we've got all the time in the world for me to hear it. But now – what are you doing?" He took Newt's spare hand in his own, and his voice cracked with nerves. "I don't suppose, well, I don't suppose you'd like to come back to America with me? My mum would love to meet you."

Newt carefully placed his suitcase down, his expression unreadable, and he threw his arms around Percival. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes, I would love to."

Percival hugged him back, unashamedly grinning as he felt the warmth of Newt's body against his own. Whatever the future held, whatever obstacles were in their path, he knew they'd weather it together.


	5. Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: If your soulmate dyes their hair, your hair changes colour too.
> 
> Optional Prompts: (Word) Cookie & (object) mirror

Percival stared at himself in the mirror, and debated going back to bed. A bad hair day was a good enough reason to call in sick, wasn't it?

Because that was exactly what he was having. His hair was green. A vibrant, emerald green. He seriously debated shaving it all off, but couldn't quite bring himself to do it.

Merlin, when he finally got his hands on his soulmate…

He huffed. He'd probably kiss them senseless. But maybe after that, he'd give them a love tap. On the face. With his knuckles.

"Looking good, handsome," the mirror purred. He narrowed his eyes at it.

"Don't think I'm afraid to shatter you," he warned it.

"Seven years bad luck, darling."

Percival scoffed. He grabbed his wand, and flicked it, the fine growth of stubble on his cheeks vanishing. Then he stalked out of the bathroom to get dressed.

Wolf whistles and catcalls greeted him as he walked into MACUSA. He ignored them all, making a beeline for the elevator.

Red chuckled even as he yanked at the lever, sending them down to Major Investigations. "Cheer up laddie. Here, have a cookie." Percival eyed the offered bag dubiously, and shook his head.

"Thanks, but no thanks."

Red shrugged. "Suit yerself."

Just as Percival was about to step out, Red's gnarled fingers curled around his wrist. "You might want to be going up to Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures later."

"Oh?"

Red grinned, showing off teeth as sharp as needles. "Oh yeah."

The elevator doors shut, and Percival frowned at them, before turning on his heel. Already he could see a pile of interdepartmental memos waiting on his desk. He groaned. If there was one thing that could make his day even worse, it was paperwork.

The Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was in chaos, the busiest he'd ever seen it, when Percival finally got around to taking Red's peculiar advice.

"Tina, what's going on?" he barked, somewhat surprised to see her up there as she'd taken the day off. She was standing next to a man who was a head and shoulders into his suitcase, obviously one that had been magically extended

"Oh sir," she cried, then her jaw dropped as she stared at his hair. "Sir, your hair!"

"I'm well aware of it." Percival crossed his arms and glared at her.

"Sir," Tina said faintly. "Let me introduce you to Newt Scamander." She reached behind her, and yanked the man up, out of the case.

The first thing he noticed was his hair.

It was a vibrant, emerald green.

"You!" he cried.

"Me?" Newt said. "Oh, I see. Oh dear." He smiled sheepishly.

Percival hesitated. Kiss him, then punch him, or punch him, then kiss him? Newt solved the problem by shuffling awkwardly, and then blushing.

Two steps, and Newt was in arms reach. A third, and Percival was brushing their lips together, Newt trembling under his touch.

"Sorry about the hair," Newt whispered when he pulled back.

"You know," Percival said. "I rather think I've grown to like it."


	6. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: There's a timer on your wrist that counts down to the moment you meet your soulmate.
> 
> Optional Prompts: (AU) Single Parent & (Word) Secret

The jingle of shifting metal was Newt's first warning. His second warning was the quiet. It was suspiciously silent. Newt shuffled Pickett so that the baby was strapped to his hip, and shifted around so that he could see into the pushchair.

Charlie smiled up at him, brown eyes wide with innocence.

"Dada?" he asked.

There were curious lumps hidden under Charlie's shirt. Newt warily lifted it up, and shook it. Coins, necklaces, watches and all manner of shiny things tumbled out of their hiding places.

"No! Dada!" Charlie cried in dismay, attempting to clutch at his treasures with his chubby little fingers. Newt pinched the bridge of his nose. Just what he didn't need, on Dougal's first parents' evening.

"Where did you get these from?" he asked, more resigned than surprised.

Charlie huffed. "Itsa secret." He crossed his arms and stuck his nose in the air, refusing to look at Newt.

Newt glanced about the Great Hall. Other parents were staring into empty purses in dismay, or bemoaning the loss of their precious jewellery.

"Charlie," Newt sighed. "You can't just go around stealing other people's things."

He blamed his own distraction. Counting down, on his wrist, was his soulmate timer. The last he'd checked, he'd only had minutes to go.

"Can," Charlie argued, with all the certainty of a three-year-old.

"Dad!"

Newt looked up, and grinned. "Dougal!" The blonde boy collided with him, brushing long shaggy hair out of his eyes, catching him in a quick hug.

"Dad, Dad, I want you to meet someone." Dougal grabbed his arm and began pulling him through the crowds, surprisingly strong for an eleven-year-old. With a flick of Newt's wand, the pushchair and Charlie's stash followed behind him.

"Professor Graves, this is my dad. Dad, this is Professor Graves. He teaches Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Newt extended a hand to shake, and then caught sight of his own wrist.

"Zero," he mouthed, wondering who on earth it could have been.

"Me too," Graves said, his voice amused. Newt snapped his head up to properly look at him. He was handsome, dark hair streaked with silver, and his eyes were the kindest Newt had ever seen.

"Oh ew! Are you going to be all gross now?" Dougal said, but Newt paid him no mind.

"I've been waiting a while to meet you," Graves said, his voice low, and Newt shivered.

"Yes. I mean, yes. I have as well," Newt rasped and realised that Graves still hadn't let go of his hand, and that he didn't mind at all.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Graves' pocket watch float out of his jacket. He snatched it out the air, pressing in back into Grave's hands.

"No!" he said, turning to Charlie, who just beamed up at him. Graves chuckled.

"Quite the little troublemaker you have there. I take it he's to blame for everyone mysteriously missing their valuables?"

Newt groaned. "Yes, and I can't seem to stop him."

Graves knelt down, and looked Charlie in the eye. Charlie grinned back.

"Young man. You'll get your father into quite a bit of trouble if you keep this up. How about a trade?" Percival dangled the watch from his fingers. It was obviously a family heirloom, made from well-polished silver. Charlie grabbed for it.

"Uhu. This watch, for the rest of your treasures."

Charlie pouted, but he eyed the watch with delight. "Mine!" he declared.

"Oh, you really don't have to do that," Newt said, completely flustered.

Graves flashed him a grin as he handed over the watch, and collected the rest of the stolen goods into a pouch.

"Of course I did. It was the least I could for my soulmate."

He stood gracefully, flustering Newt in an entirely different manner.

"Oh, er, well, thank you," Newt stuttered.

Graves smirked, taking Newt's hand and brushing a kiss across his knuckles. "How about you thank me with dinner, after all this is done?"

Newt gathered himself, and nodded formally. "It would be my pleasure," he said.


	7. Bodyswap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: When you turn a certain age, you swap bodies with your soulmate for one day of the year.

Newt had been travelling in the wilds of Africa for three weeks, and as such, it wasn't unexpected that he'd lost contact with Percival. He'd decided to stop by New York on his way to Arizona, but he'd lost his niffler, and then been arrested by Tina before he could even send an owl to his soulmate.

However, it seemed that she was taking him straight to Major Investigations, so he didn't bother to argue.

"Hello Percival," he said happily when they burst into the President's meeting.

Everyone in the room stared at him in shock, including Percival, which was mildly worrying.

"Uh, don't worry, I've got my permits," he added, in case that was the issue.

"What permits?" Percival snapped.

Newt blinked in surprise. "The, urm, the ones you gave me before I left. You haven't forgotten, have you?" He shrugged off Tina's grip, and flicked a diagnostic spell at Percival.

Three things happened in one instance.

Percival shielded himself from Newt with a vicious slash of his wand. Maisy, the swooping evil, chose that moment to attack Percival, someone she'd previously been very fond of. And Picquery and Tina turned their wands upon Newt.

"Who are you?" Picquery growled. Newt held up his hands, but didn't relinquish his wand.

"Newt Scamander," he said, entirely bemused, shuffling his feet. "Percival's soulmate?"

Their twin looks of astonishment were actually not so unexpected, when he took into account how private Percival could be.

"Newt, darling," Percival called. "If you would be so kind?"

Newt frowned. Percival would have normally been fuming had he let himself get attacked by Maisy. "There really is something wrong with you."

This time, when he cast the diagnostic, it wasn't deflected.

It seemed that the only thing wrong with Percival was that he was suffering a serious case of Polyjuice.

"Why on earth are you drinking Polyjuice in order to look like yourself?" Newt wondered.

In a flash, both Tina and Picquery turned their wands on Percival, whose eyes blazed with anger.

"Oh," Newt said, as he realised it was very likely that it wasn't actually Percival before him at all.

"Revelio," Tina muttered.

Newt was very unimpressed to discover Grindelwald impersonating his soulmate. Madam President was even more unimpressed to discover Grindelwald impersonating MACUSA's Director of Magical Security and the Head of the DMLE. Tina was smug, mainly because she'd been reinstated as an auror.

"You know," Newt mused as they discussed the whereabouts of the real Percival Graves. "We haven't used up our yearly bodyswap yet. We usually like to keep it for days we're together, because…" Newt trailed off, aware that he was blushing, and had accidentally overshared what Percival called 'delicate' information with the President of MACUSA.

Luckily, said President seemed amused. "Go on then," she encouraged. "Hopefully Percival can shed some light on his situation."

Newt closed his eyes, and reached into himself, feeling for the warmth and security of his bond with Percival. It glowed a brilliant turquoise, and Newt embraced it with all his heart. He felt Percival press up against his consciousness, but he seemed reluctant to let Newt in. Newt refused to take no for answer, however, and with pop they swapped places.

The first thing Newt noticed was the pain. There was rather a lot of it. He forced open his eyes. He was in Percival's attic, chained to the wall. He wiggled each limb best he could, and discovered that they were mostly working.

Only a few minutes later did he hear the distinct crack of apparition, and Percival, in Newt's body, raced into the room.

"You idiot! You absolute moron. Have you any idea what you're doing, taking my place? You complete, utter fool," he cried.

"I love you too," Newt said, and smiled, allowing the darkness to take over.

Newt awoke in his own body, curled up in a visitor's chair in the local wizarding hospital, Percival asleep in the bed before him. He seemed to be doing well, so Newt took the opportunity to check upon his creatures.

Unfortunately, when he opened his case, he found it filled with pastries, and not much else. There was a very good chance that there was a muggle wandering around New York with a case full of fantastic beasts.

"Oh no," Newt muttered. "I am going to be in so much trouble."


	8. Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: the red string attached to your finger leads to your soulmate
> 
> Optional prompts (word) Wave

Newt wasn't entirely certain how it had happened, but somehow, he'd ended up trapped in Nurmengard, and in cell with him was whom Newt presumed to be the real Percival Graves. It was, to be fair to the situation, a very pressing matter. But, there was something more pressing, more urgent than even that. Newt stared as the red thread he'd spent his life trying to unravel unspooled before him. At its other end; Percival Graves.

"Huh," Graves said, his gaze also focused on their soulthread. "Not exactly what I was expecting, upon becoming Grindelwald's prisoner."

Newt blinked. "What exactly were you expecting?"

Graves sighed. "I can see you're one of those sorts, then."

"What sort?"

"Literal," Graves said dryly. "Or perhaps just literally mad."

Newt winced, and shuffled awkwardly. "Yes, that sounds about right."

Graves chuckled, and pushed himself to his feet. As he grew closer, their thread shortened, until he'd taken Newt's soulhand in his own, despite the chain around his wrists. He brushed his lips over the wrap of thread around Newt's fourth finger.

"Now, my little soulmate, I'll first have your name, and then perhaps your plan to get us out of here, if you have one."

Newt blushed. "Newt Scamander," he stuttered. "And, uh…"

Pickett peered out of his pocket, and swayed gently at Graves in greeting.

"If you wave back, he might be willing to undo those manacles. It's how bowtruckles greet each other," Newt explained.

Graves, very solemnly, waved at Pickett. With a chirrup, Pickett scrambled forward, onto Graves' offered wrists, and moments later, the chains came undone.

Graves stretched, his eyes flashing with delight. "Now that feels better." A spark of magic ran along his palms, and Newt realised why Grindelwald had chained Graves' wrists together even while he was locked in a cell: Graves could use wandless magic.

"And now," Graves said, glee evident in his tone and in the twinkling of his eyes. "It's time for a little revenge."


	9. True Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: You have a mark (can be a symbol/picture/anything you like) on your body. Your soulmate will have a matching mark.
> 
> Optional Prompts: (object) invitation

Newt was faintly embarrassed by his soulmark, for he knew that it was his fault that the mark was so large. It was an enormous wampus that curled from his shoulders all the way down his back and around his stomach, its tail looping around one of his hipbones. If Newt perhaps wasn't quite so obsessed with his creatures then it might have been normal size, fitting on a bicep, or even down one lean thigh.

"This is the depth of the love that will be shared between you," his mum used to say. Newt did his best to take that to heart, but still, he preferred to keep himself buttoned up, as little skin on show as possible.

When Newt got the invitation to his brother's engagement party, a masquerade ball designed to allow you to show off your mark, whilst hiding your own face, Newt nearly filled his reply with bubotuber pus, just to show Theseus what he thought of that. It was with great reluctance that Newt penned his acceptance, but as he was already a pariah in the eyes of the British Wizarding community, he couldn't afford not to go.

"I hate you," Newt said, the moment he'd flooed into the family receiving room. Theseus just grinned madly.

"Welcome home, little brother!" Theseus slapped him on the back in greeting, because that was the kind of wanker that Theseus was.

"I really hate you," Newt repeated.

The man who'd been waiting behind Theseus cleared his throat. He was tall and handsome, and seemed reluctantly amused by their antics.

"Your fiancé?" Newt asked, intrigued.

Theseus burst into delighted cackles. "Merlin no!" He yanked the other man forward. "This is Percival Graves, newly instated Head of MACUSA's DMLE. We met during the war effort. Percy, this is Newt."

"Percival," the man corrected, offering a hand to shake. Newt did so, with a delighted smile.

"You've managed to befriend someone civilised?" Newt asked in faux amazement. "Nice to meet you, Percival."

"Theseus' brother can observe social niceties?" Percival joked in reply. "And here I thought you'd been raised in a barn. It's a pleasure to meet you, Newt."

Theseus huffed. "Rude, the both of you. I see you'll get along like a house on fire."

Newt exchanged a glance with Percival. "It's only rude if it's not true," Newt said.

Percival grinned. "And I'd say otherwise, but you wouldn't want to make a liar out of me, would you?"

Theseus snorted. "Yeah right. Come along, I've left Marcy with Mum, and we'll all be in trouble if they're left alone together for too long."

Theseus' fiancé was a delightful young woman who looked as if she knew her way about her wand.

"I slapped him, the first time I met him," Marcy told them over dinner. "I thought he was my ex, Freddie, come to cop another feel."

"She was beautiful," Theseus said dreamily, gazing at Marcy with stars in his eyes.

"I think I might be sick," Percival muttered under his breath to Newt.

"I don't think he'd even notice," Newt whispered back. They grinned at each other, until Mum cleared her throat.

"More carrots?" she asked pointedly. Newt blushed, and realised that he'd been leaning far too close to Percival than was decent.

"Yes," Newt stammered, and forced himself to look at nothing but his plate for the rest of his meal.

The day of the party came far too quickly. Newt chose to hide in his room while everyone else prepared. Perhaps naively, he hoped that they'd all forget about him, and he'd be able to spend the night in his case, with his creatures.

No such luck.

"NEWT!"

He groaned. Reluctantly he climbed out of his case. What could only be Theseus was before him, clad waist to toe in gold, his hazel eyes sparkling behind his mask. His torso was completely bare, despite the fact that his mark was only across his shoulder blades. Waiting in the hall was Marcy, also in gold, wearing a long ballgown, with a scooped back that perfectly exposed her mark when she span to show it off. To Newt's amusement, their mark was a pair of crossed wands, and it was accurate to the closest detail, presenting the alder wood of Theseus' wand, and what he presumed was dogwood for Marcy's.

"Good job I bought you an outfit and a mask, dear brother."

Newt's jaw dropped. "Like hell I'm putting on an outfit you've bought me," he retorted.

But, no sooner than he had spoken, Theseus flicked his wand, and Newt's clothes began peeling right off him.

"Theseus! Marcy is right there!"

"Oh, don't worry darling, I'm enjoying the view," Marcy said. She winked, and Newt blushed. Theseus, perhaps taking pity on him, pushed the door to. Moments later, Newt was dressed in nothing but navy suit trousers that clung indecently close to him, and a mask made of peacock feathers, a concealment charm built in.

"I hate you," he muttered.

"And away we go!" Theseus declared cheerfully, leading the way to the ballroom.

It was already packed to the brim, and there were cheers of delight when Theseus and Marcy entered together. Newt snuck in behind them and made a beeline for the drinks.

"Hello handsome," a voice purred. Newt jumped as a lady old enough to be his mother, wearing a mask with feline features, stroked her hand down his chest.

"No," he said firmly, and moved away, a method that usually worked on his creatures, but only seemed to encourage her attentions.

"Shy? Nothing to worry about, darling, I'm perfectly harmless."

"He's taken," a voice growled. Newt froze as an arm wrapped around his waist.

"Hpmf, the mated are always the most boring," the lady muttered, and stalked away.

Newt turned to his rescuer, and his jaw dropped.

Across broad shoulders was the mark that matched his own. He paced a full circle, noting the details he'd only previously been able to see in a mirror stretch out on a smooth expanse of golden skin, a languid wampus wrapped around the man's torso, matching the mask he wore.

"My house at Ilvernmory," the man rumbled, reaching out to trace the dip of a paw over Newt's collarbone.

There was something about the voice, about the man, the way he moved, the way he talked, that niggled at Newt's memory, but the charm of the masks worked against him, and he was left in the dark as to the man's identity.

"Really? I always thought, well, that it was my fault," Newt stammered.

The man chuckled. "Perhaps it's a little of both."

They'd moved into the shadows close to the wall, and Newt turned to watch the dancefloor. Theseus and Marcy span about it, lighting up the room, the picture of true love and happiness.

"Sickening, isn't it?" the man said.

Newt snorted a laugh. "My thoughts exactly."

"Why don't we get out of here. Perhaps even ditch these masks?"

"I think… I'd like that," Newt said with a smile. "And I know the quickest way out."

Newt led them behind a tapestry of dancing trolls and tapped three times on the brick. A door formed where there had been none before, and they snuck through it, the door fading back into the wall the moment it closed.

"Impressive," the man murmured. "You know, I think that I can guess who you are."

Newt tensed. "Oh?"

"Well, the likelihood that anyone but a Scamander knows about that passageway is little to none, and I highly doubt that Theseus is sneaking away from his own engagement party."

Newt forced himself to relax. "You've got me." He pulled off his mask, and ran a nervous hand through his hair.

The man moved forward, and brushed the pad of his thumb over Newt's lips. "Beautiful," he murmured. "And even better without the mask, of course."

"Do I know you?" Newt asked, his heart beating as fast as a hummingbird's.

"Oh I think so." The man brushed a chaste kiss over Newt's lips, then drew back to remove his mask.

"Percival," Newt breathed, because of course it was.

For the first time since Newt had met him, Percival seemed shy. "Yeah, that's me," he said quietly.

Newt clutched at his shoulders, and drew him closer. "I wouldn't have wanted it be anyone else."

They exchanged a heated look before Newt felt himself flush, and he glanced away.

"Yuck, true love," Percival said dryly, but he was grinning.

Newt smirked back. "You better not be sick on me," he warned, and Percival chuckled.

"Only because it's you, my dear soulmate. Only because it's you."


	10. The Potion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: A potion or blood ritual reveals your soulmate.

"Soulmates? A load of nonsense," Percival muttered. He took a sip of his pint, wondering when it had become common place for him to join the Friday night revellers in the pub just a couple minutes' walk from the Woolworth Building.

"Oh, don't be such a bore," Seraphina teased. He glared at her, then at his aurors, daring them to comment. Wisely, they kept mum, although Goldstein seemed to be struggling to keep a straight face.

"Well, I'll certainly have a crack," Lopez said. He took the shallow silver dish, and poured a capful of the potion into it. Using his wand, he pricked his finger, and allowed a drop of blood to fall in.

The potion turned pink, red diffusing through milky white, then shimmered. A face appeared, a pretty girl that Percival thought he vaguely recognised.

Lopez blushed. "That's my Shelly." He smiled dopily even as the image faded away, the potion evaporating.

"Go on sir, what's the harm?" Goldstein said.

Percival eyed the potion warily. His paranoia had reached new, although he personally thought reasonable, heights, after his imprisonment and impersonation at the hands of Grindelwald. It was the reason he'd forced himself to socialise with his co-workers. It was embarrassing that nobody knew him well enough to realise he'd been replaced.

"Do you know how many curses require a drop of the subject's blood?" Percival said, but reluctantly took the dish. He poured in the potion, and pricked his thumb.

A man's face appeared before him. He had copper curls that shone gold in the sunlight, lovely green eyes that spoke of kindness and an endearing dusting of freckles on his nose.

Goldstein gasped. "I know him," she said. "We know him."

Seraphina began to chuckle. "That's Scamander, isn't it?"

Percival found himself unable to look away until the image faded.

"Newton Scamander? The man that caused all that trouble last year?"

"You mean the man that uncovered Grindelwald's plot and allowed us to bring him to justice?" Seraphine replied tartly. "The one who figured out that you'd been impersonated, the one who prevented the exposure of the magical world to no-majs, that man?"

"Yes," Percival grumbled. Just his luck that his 'soulmate' was some sort of criminal that had managed to save them all.

"He's coming back to New York next month to give me a copy of his book," Goldstein said, probably thinking her comments helpful.

He fixed her with a glare. "He better not be bringing that case of his with him."

This time, Goldstein didn't even bother to hide her grin. "I guess you'll just have to meet him to find out."

Percival huffed, but couldn't help but think of the man's lovely green eyes. Perhaps he would.


	11. 5:46pm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: You are born with a place and time on your skin and nothing else (no year or date etc)

Newt was placidly waiting for Tina to finish her shift at MACUSA when a flash of movement caught his eye. Despite the reinforced locks on Newt's suitcase, somehow, the niffler had managed to escape, yet again.

"Oh bother!" Newt grabbed for Charlie, and tripped, tumbling to the floor. The niffler twitched his nose, and scampered away. Newt scrambled after him on hands and knees.

"Charlie," he hissed. "Come back."

With a defiant wiggle of his rear end, Charlie dived for the crack beneath the nearest door, squeezing himself through it. Seconds later, the door swung open. Someone cleared their throat.

Newt closed his eyes, just for a moment, then chanced a look upwards. "Hello?"

Director Graves, newly reinstated in his position as Head of the DMLE, looked down at him, and arched a brow. Newt hastily got to his feet, feeling the heat of a blush bloom upon his cheeks.

"Ah – I can explain? Charlie just got away from me, and, uh, well, he's perfectly harmless you see." Newt attempted to discretely peer over Graves' shoulder in order to spot his misplaced niffler.

"Sorry," he added as an afterthought.

"Is this, by any chance, Charlie?"

Newt's attention snapped back to Graves, who was holding the little villain by one foot.

"Thank you!" he gasped, and scooped Charlie up. Disgruntled, Charlie tried to wiggle away from him, but Newt shook out a few loose coins, and a pocket watch, and swept him into his case.

"He's a troublesome little bugger," Graves remarked, scooping the watch from the floor and spelling the money into his pocket.

Newt hummed his agreement. "You can say that again." He checked the time. 5:47pm. He snuck a sideways glance at Graves, then brushed his fingers against his sleeve, revealing his soulmark; 5:46pm, the Woolworth Building.

"Uh, I don't suppose…" he offered Graves his wrist.

Graves stared at it blankly, then retreated into his office. "Come in," he said, his tone flat.

The door swung shut behind Newt, once he'd stepped through it, and he jumped. Graves had his back to him, and was fiddling with a tea set.

"Take a seat," Graves said, and Newt promptly dropped into the nearest armchair, setting his case down next to it.

"I've worked here for twenty years," Graves began, and brought Newt over a cup of what smelt like Earl Grey. "And at 5:46pm I used to wonder; will today be the day? I used to check my watch religiously, a secret romantic, one might even say. But the years dragged on, and I grew cynical, and eventually I stopped noticing the time pass. I'd half-forgotten I had anything on my wrist at all. So I'll have to admit – this is rather a shock."

Newt sipped at his tea in order to hide his nerves. "Er… in a good way?"

Graves smiled for the first time, and his eyes crinkled in a way that made them seem endlessly kind. Newt's chest grew tight at the sight of it.

"Yes, I think so. Don't you?"

"Oh, yes, definitely!" Newt fiddled with his sleeve. "Oh, er, I should probably say – my name is Newt Scamander."

Graves laughed. "You know, somehow, I'd guessed. Tina often tells me stories about you, and I've read the reports. I'm Percival."

"Percival," Newt repeated, sounding out the name. He dared risk a grin. "Nice to meet you, properly, that is."

"And you." Percival chuckled. "I guess I'm still a romantic at heart – would you like to get dinner with me, tonight?"

Newt beamed, heart beating wildly in his chest. "Yes, I would. Very much so."


	12. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: You have a compass on your arm that leads you to your soulmate.
> 
> Optional Prompts: (word) reflection

When Percival graduates from Ilvermorny, he goes straight into Auror training. He passes, and makes Senior Auror within six years. Secure in his job, and confident that he's able to support his soulmate, he decides it's time to start looking for them, and takes a few days off when it's quiet. His compass points North East, and always has, so naturally he starts his search by taking a portkey to London.

For the first time in his life, his compass needle spins, radically changing direction. Percival travels North, flooing from city to city, eventually crossing into Scotland and settling in Hogsmede.

Hogwarts towers magnificently above the village, and when Percival paces around the edge of the wards, the compass dial continually whirls so that it's pointing right at the castle. It's exciting to think that his soulmate's nearly within his reach, a tangible, touchable person that resides within the school. He can't wait to meet them.

* * *

One day, completely out of the blue, Newt's compass needle starts moving. Newt's jaw drops, and he runs to find Theseus at the Gryffindor table, who ruffles his hair and grins down at him.

"They're coming to find you," Theseus tells him, and Newt wriggles with delight. His very own soulmate, someone that cares enough to actually search him out – Newt just knows that they're going to be brilliant.

His compass settles a few days later, and as he and Leta walk about the grounds, he realises that it's pointing toward Hogsmede.

"I'll always be there for you," Leta says. "Just in case they don't want you, or something."

Newt's certain that won't be the case. Next Hogsmede weekend he's up bright and early, practically vibrating with excitement. He doesn't even wait for Leta, just dashes down toward Hogsmede the moment the gates are open, following his compass. It leads him to Scrivenshaft's, and he bumps into someone coming out the door.

He looks up, and nearly gasps. He's the most handsome man Newt's ever seen, with dark brown hair and chocolate eyes that Newt thinks he could get lost in.

"Sorry," the man mutters, edging around Newt. And – Newt's compass needle spins as the man walks away.

"Wait!" Newt calls, and runs after him. The man is frowning at his own compass, and Newt yanks up his sleeve, to show his off with a grin. "Look."

The man stares at Newt, then at Newt's compass, then at his own.

"But you're a child," the man says, his face pale, and he's not smiling in the way that Newt had always thought he would.

"I'm fourteen next year," Newt retorts.

The man staggers away from him, and something in Newt's heart breaks, just a little.

"I have to go," the man rasps, and disapparates with pop, leaving Newt staring at the empty space he left behind.

* * *

Percival puts all thoughts of his soulmate behind him. He doesn't even know the boy's name, and frankly, he doesn't want to. Merlin, but a ten-year age gap was just cruel.

The only person he ever tells is Seraphina, when he's promoted to Head of the DMLE, youngest ever, and only because she's a nosy bugger. He's twenty-eight. The boy - his soulmate - might not have yet turned eighteen. It's also the only time he's ever tempted to search him out again, but he throttles that urge, and focuses on his work.

It's probably a safer alternative for the both of them, anyway.

* * *

When Newt meets Percival Graves for the second time, he's so overwhelmed – being arrested, losing his niffler, being knocked down by a bloody suitcase – that he doesn't even think to check his compass. He recognises the man, of course, and he's exactly how Newt remembers him; impossibility handsome, cold and ruthless. He foolishly gets his hopes up when Graves comes to visit them in Wand Permits, but Graves doesn't seem to recognise him, and then he's entirely preoccupied by the fact that the suitcase before him – it's the wrong one.

But the third time, Newt's been brought in front of the ICW, and has just examined the body of a no-maj, obviously the work of an obscurus, when he catches sight of his compass.

"You're not Percival Graves," Newt blurts out before he can stop himself. Silence falls upon the room.

"What are you talking about?" President Piquery finally says. The imposter's knuckles are white, so tightly is he clenching his wand.

Newt shuffles awkwardly. He knows he not wrong. That face has haunted him ever since he was thirteen. "That's not Percival Graves." He pulls back his sleeve, exposing his compass. "Percival Graves, well, he's my soulmate."

The compass needle is pointing South East. It is not pointing toward the man wearing Percival Graves' face.

"Don't be ridiculous," the imposter spits. "I don't have one."

There's a loud bang as the doors to the room slam shut, and a heavy ward settles around them. The witches and wizards of the ICW stir restlessly as the tension in the room begins to rise.

"Yes you do," Piquery says, her wand pointing at not-Graves. "Aurors, arrest this man."

The imposter snarls, jumping to his feet, a shield charm flickering to life even as he begins to throw spells wildly, hitting aurors and politicians alike, impossibly holding them all off. They drop like flies, and Newt scrambles away, shoving both himself and Jacob to the floor.

"This is not good," Jacob mutters. "This is very not good."

"Get in the case," Newt hisses, and then launches the swooping evil. The imposter is busy dealing with his opponents – Newt catches him by surprise, and he's been captured, wand knocked out of his hand.

"Accio," Newt growls, snatching the wand out of the air. Then, warily, "revelio."

Graves' face peels away to reveal Grindelwald's striking visage. Newt shivers when he smiles.

"Shit," Piquery swears, and Newt entirely agrees with the sentiment.

"Do you think you can hold me?" Grindelwald threatens, his eyes lit up with madness.

Newt, frankly, is sceptical.

* * *

Percival doesn't know how long he's been held prisoner in his own house. He'd been chained to a wall in his basement, and without the rising of the sun, it was impossible to keep track. It feels like months have passed. He's malnourished, on the brink of death, and only Grindelwald's spells are keeping him alive, as he's certainly not been receiving enough food or water.

He's in so much pain some days that he almost wishes he were dead. He's lived a full and fulfilling life, so it wouldn't be too great a hardship. He only has one true regret. He still remembers the look on his soulmate's face when Percival recoiled from him; the devastation, the heartbreak. Percival wishes he could go back and slap himself silly. Now he's older and there's little for him to do but think, trapped as he is, and upon reflection, he realises that a ten-year age gap is negligible. He could have waited. He wishes he had.

There's a disturbance at the top of the basement stairs. Percival is too tired to care.

"Director Graves?"

"Merlin, get the med team in here!"

"Director Graves – Percival?" Percival forces himself to look up. An angel is crouching before him, with worried green eyes and lovely copper hair. He looks just like Percival's soulmate, as he would be now.

Percival smiles, and the world turns dark.

* * *

Newt's there when Graves awakes. He doesn't mean to be, is just dropping by before he continues his travels, but then Graves groans, and Newt rushes forward to check that he's okay.

"You're in a hospital, it's alright, you're safe now," Newt says in a soothing voice, the one he perfected on taming Rosie, his nundu. It's almost painful to look at Graves, but he pushes aside his own insecurities.

Graves clutches at him. "Grindelwald?" he gasps, hands shaking.

"He's been taken into custody." Newt can't help but brush Graves' hair away from his eyes, and Graves presses into his touch.

"Don't go," Graves asks when Newt starts to pull away. "Please, don't go." His eyes slip closed, but his grip on Newt's hands tightens. Newt sinks into the visitor's chair, and laces their fingers together.

"I'm here for you, as long as you'll have me," he says, and something inside him that broke when he was thirteen slowly starts to mend.


	13. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: You can feel pain when your soulmate feels pain.
> 
> Optional: (Word) Moonlight & (Setting) Hospital

They lay, curled around each other, in Percival's hospital bed. The room was lit by moonlight, the curtains spread open so that they could see the stars.

"It's been a good one, hasn't it?" Percival asked. Newt squeezed his eyes shut, but the tears escaped regardless.

"It's been the best," he said in a choked voice.

"Come now, don't cry for me," Percival crooned. He tightened his grip around Newt's fingers, and Newt clutched back. Though their hold was not as strong as when they'd been in their prime, Newt would always feel secure with Percival's hands wrapped around his own.

"I don't want you to leave." Newt pressed his face into Percival's shoulder and stifled a sob. "Please don't leave."

"My darling, if I could stay, I would."

They both gasped, simultaneously, at the throb of pain in their breast, Percival's heart starting to give out.

"Percy," Newt cried. He pushed himself onto his forearms and draped himself over Percival's chest, their noses almost touching.

Percival gazed up at him, his eyes shining with affection. "My heart, my love, my soul. Without you, my life would have been empty. Not a day goes by that I am not grateful that we met. I truly believe we'll see each other again, although hopefully not too soon. Please, don't mourn for me, but celebrate the wonderful times we had. Promise me that. Please."

Tears trickled down Newt's cheeks and he angrily wiped them away, his hands shaking. Percival cupped Newt's jaw with his fingers, thumb tracing the line of Newt's cheekbone, his skin cool and soft. Another ache pulsed through them, and Percival gasped, clutching at his chest.

"Promise me, Newt," he whispered, his eyes fluttering closed.

"I promise." Newt forced his hands to hold steady as he smoothed down Percival's hair, grey and fine with age. He leaned forward, brushing their lips together. "I love you, Percy."

"I love you too," Percival breathed. The agony grew in both of them, the soulbond unrelenting, until they were both gasping with it, and it was almost as painful as the breaking of Newt's heart.

Then suddenly, it was gone.

"Percy!" Newt screamed. Healers rushed around them, but he refused to let himself be dragged away, clinging to his beloved. He wept, face buried in the crook of Percival's neck, and wondered how he was supposed to keep living, when he was missing half his soul.


	14. The Sweetest Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: You realise someone is your soulmate when you touch them.
> 
> Optional: (Event) Reunion & (song) I Don't Want to Miss a Thing - Aerosmith

_don't want to close my eyes, I don't want to fall asleep, cause I'd miss you baby, and I don't want to miss a thing_

Newt's hand was still tingling from Percival's touch, even now, six hours after the fact. They'd met at the Goldsteins', as Newt had reunited with Tina to give her a copy of his book, and Newt's entire world had stopped the moment they'd shaken hands, rearranging itself until there was nothing but Percival at its centre. Percival had felt the same, if his look of reverent awe was anything to judge by.

They'd retired back to Percival's house for a drink, and were now sitting in his lounge, the dark wood of the furniture contrasting against the cream of the walls, throwing shadows as the night closed in.

Newt was watching Percival sleep.

It was probably just as creepy as it sounded. Percival had dozed off after hours of talking, and Newt could hardly bring himself to look away from him. Newt's soulmate. A soulmate just for Newt, someone that would love him, and hold him, and be with him always. It was almost too impossible to be true.

_'_ _cause even when I dream of you, the sweetest dream will never do_

Newt was fighting his exhaustion. Inevitably, it would be a losing battle. Bit he felt that if he closed his eyes even for one moment, the day would have been nothing but a dream, cruel and bittersweet. What if he woke up at the Goldsteins'? Or back on the boat? What if he'd imagined the entire scenario, and he was still in England, friendless but for his creatures, and lonely down to his very bones?

Percival was so kind, and clever, and handsome, Newt wasn't sure if he was even real.

Newt loved him all the same.

_I just want to hold you close, feel your heart so close to mine, and just stay here in this moment, for all the rest of time_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first ever song fic... GASP


	15. Talented

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: You share the same talents as your soulmate
> 
> Optional: (word) Freeze

To the surprise of just about everyone that knew him, Newt was one of the best duellists to graduate Hogwarts. He was, in a word, talented. Unnaturally so.

"Your soulmate must be an auror," Theseus posited. Newt, without looking, deflected three curses and a disarming charm. He licked his finger, and turned the page of his book, a treatise on the care of occamies, and wiggled, settling into the cushions of the armchair he was curled up in.

"This can't be right. Who in their right mind would feed occamies ginger? That would just make them ill-tempered," he muttered. He snatched up a quill, and began scrawling in the margins of the book.

"Do you think they're someone I know? Perhaps I should release a flock of hippogriff in the Ministry, and see if anyone's able to tame them."

"You can't tame hippogriffs," Newt lectured, still scribbling away. "You can only negotiate with them."

"Oh, obviously," Theseus drawled. Newt glanced at him, and rolled his eyes when Theseus offered him a mocking grin, a dashing look on his handsome features. Theseus' hair was the same vibrant shade as Newt's but that was where the similarities ended. Theseus was broad where Newt was slim, loud where he was quiet, and charming where Newt was awkward. Sometimes, Newt was jealous, but he did his best not to obsess over it. He attempted to stay true to the Scamander family motto; worrying meant suffering twice.

"Or, they could be a foreigner. I hear the Italian catturatore di mago scuro* are wicked with their wands."

"Merlin, do you ever shut up?" Newt asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. Theseus' grin was answer enough. "Aren't you going to America today?"

"Portkey leaves in ten minutes." Theseus dangled a pocket watch from between his fingers. "Tada."

Thankfully, Theseus took the hint and disappeared, shouting about collecting his trunk. Newt continued with his notes, before running out of space. He flipped open the lid of his suitcase in order to collect more parchment, and Freddie, the niffler, shot out of it like his tail was on fire.

"Ah, shit," Newt muttered, and scrambled after the bugger.

After a merry chase about the house, Newt finally caught him. "There you are, you little devil!" Freddie glared back at him, utterly unimpressed. Newt couldn't help but grin at his petulance.

"How many times must I tell you not to steal things?" Newt tickled Freddie's belly, and the niffler squirmed as coins, jewellery, and a pocket watch fell into Newt's waiting hands.

"You're trouble, is what you are," Newt said. He shepherded Freddie back into the case, before turning his attention to the collection of stolen items.

The pocket watch was glowing.

"Oh no," Newt said. There was a familiar yank at his gut, and then Newt was tumbling through vortex of a portkey.

He landed with a thud and immediately ducked under a flash of spellfire. Before him was a man he only knew from wanted posters – Grindelwald – and someone he recognised as Percival Graves from Theseus' photos of previous trips to America. He rolled to his feet, and immediately joined the fight.

Grindelwald looked furious when he was forced to shield from Newt, and Graves shot him a dubious, if appreciative glance. Newt retreated so that he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Graves, and together, they duelled the most notorious wizard known to modern day.

Their magic worked in perfect synchronicity. Alone, they would have struggled against the might of Grindelwald, but together, it felt as if no one would be able to take them down. Newt shielded when Graves attacked, and attacked as Graves shielded. A clever curse sent debris flying toward Grindelwald, and Newt took a chance and launched a body bind at him. Grindelwald swore in German, and disapparated, spells dissipating on the wall behind where he'd stood. He was gone. They'd won – or at least beaten him back.

Slowly, Graves turned to Newt. He hadn't put down his wand. He was quite dashing, Newt absently noted, even sweaty and dirty from the fight, with dust in his hair and a trickle of blood from a cut on his forehead.

"Now, who the hell are you?" Graves demanded. He wiped a hand through his hair, brushing off loose fragments of brick. Newt followed the languid shrug of his body with his eyes, captivated by the movement, then gulped when he realised he'd been caught staring.

"Scamander," Newt blurted out.

"Really." Graves narrowed his eyes. "You do look a bit like Theseus, I suppose."

"I'm Newt, his brother," Newt hastily explained. "My niffler stole the portkey just as it went off."

Graves huffed. "I've heard enough stories about that bloody creature to fill a book. Well, at least you're a decent duellist, I'll give you that."

Newt's jaw dropped. "I'll have you know I'm one of the best the British Ministry has to offer!"

"Yeah?" Graves said dryly. "Same."

Newt frowned, something about those words bothering him, when a flicker of movement caught his eye. He threw himself to the floor as an enormous griffin launched itself out of one of the buildings that had been destroyed in the fight. The griffin screeched as it tumbled to the ground with what looked like a broken wing.

"Hush now, there you go," Graves crooned. He crept toward the griffin, freezing when snapped at him. He carefully kept eye contact, and bowed. The griffin shuffled, hissing with pain as it jarred it's wing. After a tense moment, it bowed back. Graves moved forward and began casting all the necessary spells to set, bind and bandage the wing.

"That was amazing," Newt said, in awe. It was exactly what he'd have done, but something he'd never even seen another wizard attempt.

Graves shrugged, keeping his voice low and tone calm. "It's a talent of mine."

Newt blinked, before biting his lips to keep from grinning. "You know," he began carefully. "I'm writing a book on the care and keeping of magical creatures. It's my speciality. And I never learnt to duel. I'm just talented at it."

Graves glanced at him, his mouth quirking up into a smile. "Oh, really?"

"What I'm saying," Newt said, feeling bold. "Is that I think there was a reason I ended up in New York, right here, just as you needed help the most."

Graves was stroking the griffin, beak to flank, and Newt carefully approached, bowing to the magnificent creature and only stepping forward when it bowed back. He found himself in quite close proximity to Graves, but it certainly wasn't an issue.

"Then I think that we shouldn't waste this opportunity," Graves murmured into Newt's ear. "It's not every day one meets their soulmate."

Newt shivered at the warmth of Graves' breath on his cheek. "Mr Graves… It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He dared risk a chaste kiss.

Graves sighed into it, before cupping Newt's face with his hand. "Oh, Mr Scamander," he smirked wickedly. "The pleasure will be all mine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dark wizard catchers, thanks google translate
> 
> YAY. Something happy to make up for the tears fest that was chapter 13.


	16. Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Seeing through soulmate's eyes
> 
> Optional Prompts: (Spell) Imperio & (Word) Spirit

Catching Grindelwald by surprise was the only way that Percival was ever going to escape. He rubbed his wrists raw against the metal of the handcuffs, and blood trickled down his arms. He bit at them, tearing open his veins, and swayed, dizzy with blood loss, his heart racing. He didn't need to fake his swoon as he fell against the wall. His vision darkened, and his eyes drooped closed.

"Tut tut," Grindelwald said when he entered a few minutes later, sounding mildly peeved. "What have you been up to?" He crouched on the floor next to Percival, and it took everything Percival had not to tense.

"Vulnera sanentur." Grindelwald cast the song-like incantation, and Percival could feel his wounds closing over. It was time.

He launched his body forward, eyes snapping open, and knocked Grindelwald's wand from his hand. He wrapped his handcuffs around Grindelwald's neck and yanked.

Grindelwald gasped for breath, then turned, slamming Percival into the stone wall behind him. Percival, already woozy, heading throbbing, clung tighter.

Grindelwald scrambled at him, pulling at the cuffs, digging his elbows into Percival's side, before he finally gasped, "Relashio!" with the last of his air, and Percival was flung to the floor. He groaned, and tried to push himself to his hands and knees, and his entire body trembled and ached.

"Oh Percival," Grindelwald purred, his throat sounding raw. He chuckled to himself around ragged breaths. "You are in so much trouble."

Percival shuddered, and didn't look at him, which earned him a kick that had him tumbling to the ground. He gasped with pain and retched on an empty stomach.

"That's the last escape attempt from you I'll tolerate. Now, hmm, what shall we do with you? Ah, yes… imperio."

Percival suddenly felt weightless, as if he were floating away from all of his troubles. It seemed natural to him to sit up, and accept the knife Grindelwald had given him. He turned it on himself, and blade against his cheek, and began to cut.

Absently, he was aware that he was screaming. The only thing that mattered, however, was the commanding voice in his head, the one that whispered  _remove your eyes_.

When the imperius curse was released, Percival curled in on himself, and sobbed. Not a single tear fell, and his spirit was truly broken.

* * *

"I've got an idea," Newt said. Percival turned his head in the direction of his voice.

"Mm?" he asked, endlessly tired.

"It's, well, it's not a cure, but it's something, and I'd just like to give it a try."

Percival sighed. If it had been anyone but Newt... but it wasn't. He trusted Newt, as much as he trusted anyone. He extended a hand, and barely flinched when Newt took it in his own. "Very well."

"Per oculos anima*," Newt whispered, and Percival felt him gently touch his wand to the side of Percival's head.

He gasped. Where for months there had only been darkness, there was light. The green of the grass in the occamy's enclosure, the gold of the tree by the niffler's nest, the blue of the sky above them.

"Newt," Percival rasped. "Oh, Newt."

The vision moved, and Percival was suddenly faced with an image of himself. He wished he could look away.

"You're seeing through my eyes," Newt explained.

"Could you look at the sky again?" Percival asked, and it was strange seeing himself talk.

"Of course," Newt said, and glanced up.

Percival had never appreciated the wonder of nature as much as that moment. He'd never thought about the nuances in tone between the deep indigo of night, and the bright blue of a sunny day. Everything about it was beautiful.

He fumbled for his wand, and conjured a mirror.

"Let me see you?" he begged.

After a pause, Newt looked at himself, and Percival looked as well.

Newt's eyes were green, and his hair was copper, and his smile was crooked. He was perfect.

"I love you," Percival said, the words escaping before he could hold them back. It was impossible to ignore the softness that statement evoked in Newt's gaze. Newt strode away from the mirror, and sat next to Percival, looking up at the sky once more.

"I love you too," he said, and to Percival, it sounded like the promise of a future together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *see through the soul's eyes


	17. Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: you can talk to your soulmate in your mind

Newt's seventeenth birthday was unremarkable, but for one thing.

" _What the hell is a niffler_?"

Newt glanced up from his book, a birthday present from Theseus. There was no one else in the room.

" _You can hear me?"_

"Yes?" Newt said, tentatively.

" _Happy Birthday then, I suppose._ "

Newt withdrew his wand, and cast homenum revelio. Nothing happened. He glanced about, then closed his eyes.

" _Hello?"_ he thought.

" _That's the ticket."_

Unbidden, a tear trickled down Newt's cheek. He grinned, swiping it away.

_"Yes, that's right, you have a soulmate. Now, what I want to know is why you're so damn interested in all those beasts of yours."_

Thoughts sprung to mind – of the magnificence of his creatures and the injustices they were treated with.

_"Alright, alright, I understand. I have to say I'm more bothered by the injustices shown by humans to humans. I'm an auror, you see."_

_"So's my brother,"_ Newt thought _._

_"Hmm… Theseus Scamander? So, I suppose that makes you Newton."_

_"Newt."_

He heard the faint echo of a chuckle, and Newt shivered. He hugged himself, wildly happy to have been granted this gift.

_"I'm Percival. Percival Graves, Senior Auror of the MACUSA"_

_"America? I've always wanted to go,"_ Newt thought wistfully. He blinked as he realised that he could go – searching for his soulmate was as good a reason as any.

_"There won't be any searching at all. I'll give you precise directions to my flat."_

Newt grinned. Already, he could feel his heart fluttering, and he knew that it was love. To have a soulmate was to be blessed by magic, and Newt had never felt luckier. He wondered if Percival would be tall, short, slim, or stout.

 _"Brown hair, brown eyes,"_ Percival imparted _. "Not particularly tall though."_

 _"I'm fairly tall, with green eyes, and red hair."_ He tried to imagine a picture of himself, and then pushed it at the link between them.

" _Beautiful_ ," Percival thought, and Newt smiled.


	18. Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: You remember your soulmate from your past lives and search for them

Every life Newt's ever lived, he'd been a traveller. They'd agreed on it the second life they'd spent together, when they'd both travelled the world searching for their other half, and had spent several decades missing each other.

Early 20th Century, in a magical world, was a fairly pleasant time period to be living in. Yes, in a hundred years the technology was awe-inspiring, but magic and muggles mixed so infrequently that unless Newt was born without any form of powers, it hardly mattered.

Currently, he was on a steamer heading for New York. Something about it felt intrinsically right. No matter what name Newt's soulmate took, nor what face he wore, this was where he would find him. And he would recognise him instantly – he always had.

There were rumours in the magical world of bonded pairs living lives together, over and over again. Newt never contributed toward them. As much as he loved the world around him, he understood the fickle nature of humanity. He had no wish to become a science experiment, a Guinea pig at the mercies of the Unspeakables, and he knew his love felt the same.

Oh, how he couldn't wait to see him again.

New York was beautiful. He wandered aimlessly, until he found himself at Central Park Zoo, of course. He'd not lived a single life where he hadn't been drawn to the protection and preservation of all creatures, big and small.

There was a man, sitting on a bench, watching the capuchin monkeys frolic. Newt's heart fluttered, and he gasped. The man turned at the noise, and his jaw dropped.

"My heart, my soul," Newt whispered.

"Your eyes are the kindest I've ever seen," his soulmate said, as if in a daze. "Oh, it's you, it's really you."

"Darling, it's been a while." Newt laced their fingers together, the warmth of his skin setting Newt aflame.

His soulmate smiled in return. "At least we have forever, together."


	19. An Opportunity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: you have a clock that counts up from 0 until you meet your soulmate
> 
> Optional prompts: (Saying) "Life begins at forty."

Percival woke in a hospital bed, surprised to find himself alive. A healer rushed in, likely alerted to his conscious state.

"Geroff," he muttered, scooping up his wand from his bedside table and deflecting the diagnostic spells she cast at him. He staggered to his feet, ignoring vocal cries off disapproval.

"Mr Graves, you must get back into bed!"

"Bugger off. I've been held captive for Merlin knows how long – you're not keeping me here!" he snarled.

The healer crossed her arms, and frowned.

"Graves, are you being difficult?"

Percival groaned. He conjured himself a basic robe, and wrapped it around his body.

"Always," he grunted. Piquery stood in the doorway, tapping her foot, an amused expression upon her face.

"I don't know how I ever mistook him for you," she teased, but kindly. She offered an arm, and he gladly took it. "I'll apparate you home."

"Hpmf," Percival said, but accepted her offer.

He collapsed into an armchair the moment they arrived. Merlin, but that had taken a lot out of him.

"Tired?" Piquery said dryly.

"No," he growled. "Now, tell me what in Merlin's name has been happening."

She snorted. "Grindelwald had been impersonating you for three weeks, searching for an obscurus that he wanted to hone into a weapon and use to expose the magical world. A British Wizard named Newt Scamander got himself caught up in all the trouble, and somehow managed to capture and reveal him. The obscurus, I'm afraid, could not be contained. There's a complete report on your desk, but I don't want to see you in MACUSA for a week, do you understand?

Graves rolled his eyes. "Fine."

"There's something else."

He arched a brow when she paused. "Yes?"

"Check your arm."

Graves frowned. He rolled up his sleeves and – gaped.

His number was frozen. "Fuck off," he said to it, unwilling to deal with that, on top of everything else. But, there it was. 41:5:7:11:3:58. Years, months, days, hours, minutes and seconds. From his rough calculations, it had frozen three days ago.

"They do say 'life begins at forty'," Piquery said cheerfully. He narrowed his eyes at her.

Ah hell. All that – and now he had to hunt down his soulmate as well.

There was a knock at his door. Percival exchanged a bewildered glance with Piquery, and went to answer it, wand in hand.

A scruffy looking man, with lovely eyes, and a case in hand, stood there, shuffling his feet anxiously.

"Percival Graves? I, er – " His gaze snapped to Percival's exposed number, which he promptly hid behind his back.

"Oh, er, sorry! Look!" The man shoved his own frozen number in Percival's face. "Three days ago, I came to visit you, Mr Graves, and I've only just realised that had stopped, to be perfectly honest, and so I spoke to Tina, and she told me to come here."

"Mr Scamander?"

The man – Scamander – stiffened. "President Piquery," he said, his voice wary.

She took in the situation with sharp eyes. "I think I'll be off now, Graves. See you in no less than a week. More, if you like." Piquery winked at him, and Percival glared back at her, until she apparated away.

"I suppose you better come in." Percival held open the door, and led the way back to his lounge.

"Newt Scamander, and I, well, I know who you are." They shook hands. His handshake was firm, confident. Despite his nervous exterior, Scamander was a self-assured man, of that, Percival was certain.

He sat down in his armchair, and laced his fingers together, inspecting Scamander. He was scrutinised in return.

"Look, if you don't want this, just say, and I'll be off," Scamander said tiredly, swiping a hand through his hair. "I understand it's a lot to deal with."

He hadn't taken a seat, and turned toward the door.

"Wait," Percival said, knowing he'd curse himself if he let this opportunity slip through his fingers. "Do you have anywhere to be?"

Scamander shook his head.

"Then – just stay here, a while. We can get to know each other."

Scamander offered him a tentative smile. "Alright," he said softly. "I think I'd like that."


	20. Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: You meet your soulmate in your dreams.
> 
> Optional: [Dialogue] "I'll miss you when I wake up!" & (colour) ash grey

Percival's dreamscape hadn't filled out until six years after he'd turned seventeen. It meant that he was six years older than his soulmate, though he tried not to let it bother him, and mostly succeeded.

The dreamscape was dark and cloudy, the sky ash grey, leaving the rest of the world a dull monochrome. Even the grass was faded and brittle.

"Hello?" Percival called. A choked sob answered him. He followed the sound, to find a boy curled up underneath a tree, crying into his folded arms.

"Hey there," Percival said quietly. The boy twitched, and took a shaky breath. Percival tentatively rested a hand on the boy's slim shoulder.

"Oh Merlin, I'm sorry," the boy said, wiping away his tears. He looked up, and frowned. "Who are you?"

Percival blinked in surprise. "Your soulmate. This is our dreamscape, I believe."

The boy startled. "What? Really?" He scrambled to his feet. "I suppose I did turn seventeen." He smiled weakly.

Percival, disregarding sense, drew the boy in for a hug, holding him close. The boy quickly relaxed into it, sighing into his shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, impossible to tell how long within the magic of the dream.

"Thank you," the boy whispered. Percival gently pulled away, immediately missing the warmth of the boy's body against his own.

"Percival Graves, at your service."

The boy smiled wryly, and shook his hand. "Newton Scamander. Everybody calls me Newt, though."

A sliver of sunlight broke through the clouds.

"Newt." Percival tried the name out for size. "British, I presume. Are you at Hogwarts?"

Newt's breath hitched, and he gazed away. "Not anymore. I was expelled."

Percival drew him close once more. "Their mistake," he said firmly. "All the more reason for you to come to America to visit me."

Newt gasped. "Really? You want me too?"

"Certainly. It would be my pleasure."

The sky was now bright blue, the only clouds fluffy and white. It allowed him to see that Newt's eyes were forest green, and his copper hair glinted in the sunlight. Newt stood tall, and it transformed him from a boy into a man.

"Alright then. That's what I'll do."

Percival smiled, taking Newt's hand in his own. "I can't wait."

Everything was getting brighter now, but Newt was fading.

"I'll miss you when I wake up!" Newt called, a smile lighting up his face, even as he disappeared from sight. Percival reached for him, then woke with a jolt.

He was in his flat in New York. He glanced about the room, flicking open his curtains with a wave of his wand, and debated what changes he'd need to make. After all, he was soon to have a visitor, one that Percival was determined to make as happy as he could.


	21. Burning Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: You're more powerful when you meet your Soulmate
> 
> Optional Prompts: (Word) Reign

Percival glanced at the door to his cell. He didn't know how long Grindelwald would be gone – anything from minutes to a full day, but he couldn't wait any longer. His occlumency barriers were closing to breaking, he was sure, and so he couldn't afford for Grindelwald to begin torturing him again. It would be disastrous, to have Percival's secrets exposed, and not just for the wizarding world.

Percival was depending upon his last resort, wary as he was of it.

He bit at his wrists until blood trickled down his forearms, and then used it to paint an array of runes and symbols on the floor around him. When it was done he was on all fours, in the middle of a Fairie circle, his gaze bleary, and his heart thumping slowly in his chest.

"Blood of my blood," he whispered in the ancient Fairie language, reluctance heavy on his tongue. "Free me from this world of mortals, and bring me to the reigning King."

It felt as if the air in the room grew denser, and the runes began glowing an eerie golden as they swirled along the floor in ethereal patterns. The liquid crept toward Percival and crawled along his legs and arms, inking bright tattoos into his skin until fading from sight, sinking into his body. Percival gasped as the Fairie magic took a hold of his soul, and he was ripped from one plane of existence to another.

Reds, golds, yellows and oranges coloured the fallen leaves that covered the dirt floor he'd sprawled upon. He cautiously pushed himself to his knees, but did not stand further, and stayed with head bowed.

"Perseus," a voice purred. "Isn't this just the most wonderful surprise."

"Fairie King of the Autumn Realm, may your reign be everlasting and your harvests plentiful," Percival greeted him dutifully, chancing a look. The Autumn King was as handsome as ever, copper hair shifting with the light breeze, and forest green eyes glinting with mirth. Percival shivered.

"Rise, my darling. Even with you just arrived, I can already feel my realm flourishing. I do hope that you are here to stay."

"Newt –" Percival choked on his words, and instead accepted the offered hand, his skin tingling at the touch. "Still taller than me, I see," he joked weakly.

Newt took hold of his chin between his thumb and forefinger of his right hand, and his eyes narrowed.

"You are dismissed," he announced to his court, which Percival had barely noticed. Fairies of all kind flittered away, sprites giggling as they darted through the air, gnomes burrowing into the ground and pixies floating on the breeze. Magical creatures of all shapes and sizes began to dissipate as well, until only an occamy lay curled about Newt's neck, eying Percival lazily.

"What has happened to you, in the realm of mortals, my dear?" Newt asked quietly, his cat-like eyes filled with sorrow. He took Percival's hand in his own and lead him over to the crook of a tree that had been grown to accommodate a seat large enough for the both of them.

"What do you think happened, my King, when you abandoned me. Did you think I would thrive?"

"I? You left me!" Newt snarled. "You were the one that wished to go there."

"To live a mortal life time, not a Fairie one! You were the one that said if I wished to go then I ought never return."

Newt turned away from him, and with a twist of his fingers began building something out of autumn kissed leaves that had settled at his feet.

"Those words were said in anger," he whispered. "Not a day has gone by that I do not regret them."

He offered Percival his creation, a ring that shone gold, with a hint of the fire of the autumn sun at its centre. "Come back to me, my love. Stay here, and rule by my side."

"I cannot," Percival rasped. "You know I cannot." But he took the ring, and slipped it onto his finger.

"Has this visit at least granted you the strength you need?" Newt's eyes glistened with tears, and Percival daringly swiped away a sparkling drop that had trickled down his cheek. Newt smiled tremulously, and caught Percival's hand, pressing it into his jaw for a moment before letting it fall back to Percival's side.

Percival hadn't felt so good, so powerful, in a millennium. "Just seeing you has invigorated me. I am filled with vitality – my fire burns bright when it burns so close to yours."

"As does mine." Flames flickered over Newt's fingers before the occamy snapped at them, and they disappeared. Newt soothed her, and she settled her head back into the hollow of his neck.

"If you must go – come back." Newt took his hand and kissed Percival's ring. "Twist this three times, and it will bring you to my side." He bowed his head.

"Newt," Percival whispered, and tilted Newt's face to his. He brushed their lips together chastely then stood, unable to look away until the very moment he had to. Newt's gaze scorched him, burning with their mutual desire.

Percival gathered Fairie magic to him, his long empty reserves filled once more. With snap of his fingers, realities were torn apart, and he returned to the mortal world.

But this time, he arrived with joy in his heart and a fire blazing in his soul.


	22. Returning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Your soulmate mark is only half complete and it completes itself when you spend time with your soulmate.
> 
> Optional Prompts: (Object) Diamond (colour) lemon yellow (Word) Frantic

Newt frowned at the letter in his hand. MACUSA was requesting his assistance in what they thought were spate of animal attacks. Judging by the description, they were right about it being a creature. He absently rubbed at his mark, the outline of a Niffler's Luck, not yet filled out with the customary gold of the leaves and sparkling diamond fruits, adorned upon his inner wrist and forearm. He wasn't sure if he truly wanted to return to New York, not after he'd learnt that Tina had found her soulmate, and would no longer be looking at him with that sweet sort of hope in her eyes.

He read the letter again. Muggles with deep gashes across their upper body, vicious bite marks, and rumours of enormous birds. Congress thought it might be Frank, but to Newt, it sounded like a scared and injured hippogriff. With a sigh, he penned first his reply to MACUSA, then a second letter to the British Ministry, requesting a portkey to New York.

* * *

 

It was summer, and thus swelteringly hot when he arrived in America. He barely landed the portkey, and immediately doubled checked that his case was locked.

Someone cleared their throat. Newt spun, drawing his wand. There stood Percival Graves – or somebody wearing his face.

"I'm the real Percival Graves, you know," Graves drawled. "But feel free to cast any spells you deem necessary, as I understand your caution."

Newt narrowed his eyes, but stowed his wand. "If you were Grindelwald, you'd have contingencies in place, and it wouldn't matter. Frankly, I doubt he'd try the same thing twice. I'm Newt Scamander, by the way."

They shook hands, and Graves seemed pleased by Newt's decision.

"Come along then. We've much to do, and some sort of beast to stow away in your suitcase, and that's all without letting Seraphina know."

Newt arched a brow. "The President doesn't know I'm here?"

Graves grinned. "She explicitly informed me never to let you back into the country. Unfortunately, I seemed to have lost the memo."

"Really," Newt said, glancing sideways at his co-conspirator. "It seems we better crack on then."

* * *

 

It was a hippogriff, Newt was pleased to discover, as they were easy to deal with, if you knew how. After earning the creature's respect with a bow and some kind words, he ushered her into his suitcase. Graves had a smug expression upon his face, as he'd been the one to calm the beast.

"Like you knew what to do with it," Newt murmured, with a wry smile. Graves grinned, and winked.

"Of course. But it wouldn't do to show my entire team up, would it?"

Said Aurors had been frantically running around in circles, attempting to capture the hippogriff without hurting it, as per Graves' order.

Newt wondered how anybody that knew Graves could have mistaken Grindelwald's poor impersonation for the real thing. He wisely chose not to voice that thought.

"On a more serious note – thank you," Graves said quietly, looking the most solemn Newt had seen him. "Not just for today."

Newt nodded. "It was my pleasure."

A more mischievous gleam appeared in his eye, and he took both of Newt's hands in his own.

"What ever would I do without you, my fearless warrior, my daring – oh." Percival cut himself off to stare at Newt's soulmark in shock.

Newt was staring at it too. There was a lemon yellow tint to the leaves, that, in time, would darken to a rich gold. The branches swayed with an invisible wind. Newt looked up from the mark, and into Graves' eyes.

"It was blank, yesterday," he said, his voice sounding distant to his ears.

Suddenly Graves was scrambling at his vest, and nearly tore open his shirt. On his chest was a preening hippogriff, its feathers beginning to fill out in deep shades of grey and navy blue.

"Oh," Graves said again, and carefully touched his mark as if it would disappear. "Oh."

Newt blinked, coming back to himself, and couldn't fight his grin. "I nearly didn't come," he said breathlessly. "I'm so glad that I did."

"My darling Scamander, I'm glad that you did as well," Graves' smile was roguish, and Newt wanted to kiss it off his face. "Perhaps, you might even deign to stay?"

"You'll never get rid of me," Newt promised, and Graves' smile grew impossibly wider.


	23. Serenity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your soulmate's name is written on your wrist. (You can change the body-part).

Jedi Master Percival Graves followed two codes; the Jedi Code, and his own moral beliefs. Very rarely, did they ever come into conflict, but when they did, his meditation sessions were legendary.

Today was one such occasion.

"Master Dumbledore… Padwan Scamander." He bowed in greeting, and the master-padwan pair bowed back in unison. He stood aside to allow them entry to his quarters.

"I suspect that you know why we are here," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling with hidden mirth. Dumbledore had long been on the council, and like all of those force darned interfering busy bodies, loved to play verbal games whilst remaining as inscrutable and infuriating as possible.

"Hmpf," Percival replied, and gestured them to follow him. "Please, take a seat. Would you like tea, or caf?"

"Peppermint, for the both of us," Dumbledore replied. Percival's gaze flickered to Scamander, who was watching at him intently.

"Very well." Percival retreated to the kitchen and began making tea, and caf for himself. Kriff Dumbledore for dropping in on him like this with no warning.

When he returned, Dumbledore was inspecting his collection of holos, while Scamander sat primly on his sofa, hands clasped together.

"Today is my sixteenth birthday," Scamander said when he accepted his tea. Percival eyed him with mild surprise. By all accounts, Scamander was usually shy and reserved. He glanced at Dumbledore, who was hiding a smile behind his cup.

"Many happy returns," Percival said stiffly.

Scamander set his drink aside. "Thank you."

He began rolling up his sleeve, and Percival closed his eyes for just a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. When he opened them, Scamander was looking up at him expectantly. On Scamander's inner forearm, in Percival's own handwriting, was his name; _Percival Graves_. He was not surprised. After all, he had the matching mark on his own skin.

"The Jedi code forbids attachments, and we are advised to release our feelings to the Force," Percival began, and Dumbledore scoffed.

"But what does the Force tell you, hmm? The code was not created with cases like this in mind, where two soulmates are found within the Order."

Percival cringed at the word. Few Jedi had soulmarks, and those that did rarely found their other half anyway, not with the entire universe to search. To have actually found his soulmate… it was taboo.

Scamander was still looking at him. His eyes were very green. Percival tore his gaze away, and began pacing the room. "But the code," he argued weakly.

"I know you helped Padwan Goldstein leave the Order when she met her soulmate," Scamander said. "I'm friends with Tina, her older sister."

"Kriffing hells," Percival muttered, and ran a hand through his hair. "That girl can't keep her mouth shut to save her life."

"And that is rather beside the point," Dumbledore interrupted. His gaze was solemn over his half-moon glasses. Percival glared back. "I am needed in a council session in a few moments, so I will take my leave. Padwan, I shall see you in our quarters, later. Master Graves… thank you for the tea."

Percival stared dumbly after him as Dumbledore strode out the door. "I need to meditate," he said, reaching out to the Force for reassurance.

"May I join you?" Scamander asked.

Percival sighed. "Very well."

He led them to an alcove just off the main room, and sat cross legged on a mat, Scamander opposite him. He closed his eyes, and began to regulate his breathing.

The Force hummed about him as he sunk further into meditation. One with the Force, he breathed with it, each inhale in perfect harmony. It leant him peace, and serenity and gave Percival the strength to extend his senses. A bright spark in the Force sung out to him, and their energies danced as one. _Oh_ Percival thought, and tentatively reached out. Newt was already reaching back, and he laced their fingers together as they existed as two halves of a whole that was merging together.

Percival withdrew from meditation to find Newt smiling gently at him. Percival's answering grin was wry.

"I suppose we better inform the council of this," he murmured.

"That's what Master Dumbledore is doing now," Newt said with a cheeky smirk.

Percival huffed a laugh. "Of course."

Newt shuffled closer so that their sides were pressed together, and the Force sang with joy.

 


	24. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Hot/Cold game. The name gets clearer on their arm.

"Mom!" Percival yanked on his mother's sleeve, and gestured to his wrist. His mark – his special mark that no one else was allowed to see – had darkened, and he could almost read what the words said.

"Oh sweetheart," she murmured. "They must be close. Go on – lead the way."

Percival glanced nervously about the streets of London. "What if we get lost?" he whispered, as he didn't want to seem scared.

"Then I'll apparate us back to our hotel. But don't worry dear, I've no more meetings for the rest of the day – we've got all afternoon to explore."

Percival grinned, and began walking, following the darkening of his mark. They got a few strange glances, but other than that were paid no mind, just a boy dragging his mother about the city.

"I can read it!" he exclaimed when they stopped by the entrance to an alley. "Newt Scamander?"

"Hmm." His mother glanced about, eyes narrowed.

"Mom? This way, I think." Percival led them into the alley, and his mother drew her wand.

"Careful now, Percy," she said, but Percival ignored her, dashing forward.

"Newt?" Percival called. "Newt Scamander?"

There was a strange rustling noise, and then a tiny, dirty face peered out from behind some bags of garbage. It was a boy, with a wary gaze, and a weird snake thing wrapped around his neck.

"What?" the boy asked. "Who're you?"

"Oh my," his mother said.

"I'm Percival Graves." He extended a hand to shake. The boy – Newt – stared at it. Then he spat in his palm, and clasped their hands together. "Gross!" Percival declared, delighted.

"Where's your home, child?" his mother asked.

Newt shrank back. "Don't got no home," he said. "Ain't going home. Can't make me."

"Really! You could always come home with us… if you like?" Percival said. "After all, you are my soulmate."

Percival blinked, and something occurred to him. "You are my soulmate, aren't you?"

The boy yanked at his clothes, and then extended his arm. "What's it say?"

Percival stared at the mark in shock. Percival Graves was inked upon the boy's fair skin, the only patch not covered in dirt. He reached out, and the boy recoiled.

"Well?"

"It says 'Percival Graves', which is the name of my son," Mom answered for him, when Percival couldn't get out the right words. It was his soulmate. He'd found his soulmate! "Why don't you come with us for a hot drink, and some food, and we'll figure things out from there, shall we?"

Sharp eyes looked between them.

"You don't have to be afraid," Percival said, finding his voice. He offered his hand.

"Only if Marbles can come too," Newt countered, petting the snake thing about his neck. "She's my friend."

Percival nodded, and Newt stepped out from his hiding place. Carefully, he took Percival's hand, his fingers much smaller, and Percival realised that Newt probably wasn't even ten.

"Ready?" his mother said, taking Percival's other hand and clasping Newt's shoulder.

As they apparated away Percival vowed to give his soulmate the best home he could ever wish for, and everything else that he wanted if it was within his power. It was his soulmate, after all.


	25. Immortal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: You can only be killed by your soulmate

Over a thousand years, and wizards hadn't changed one bit, Newt mused. He felt tired. He'd felt tired for years, now.

He stood between all of MACUSA's aurors and Credence Barebones, idly shielding him from their spells. His attention was focused upon Grindelwald, who looked… old, beneath his glamour.

"You've aged," Newt said quietly.

Grindelwald bared his teeth. "And?"

Newt said nothing, and disgust crossed Grindelwald's face. "Centuries of preparation, all ruined because I met my soulmate in some young mudborn wizard, and now I'll age and die perhaps even before my plans come to fruition."

"Albus Dumbledore is a great man," Newt replied.

MACUSA had stopped firing spells at them and were shamelessly eavesdropping.

"A good one, perhaps," Grindelwald sneered. "But not great. Tell me, Newt – are you still going by that name? How does it feel to know that you're centuries older than almost any other living being on the planet? Doesn't it make you feel superior? Aren't we – so called immortal – better than them?"

"Never," Newt declared.

Meanwhile, Credence had been condensing into human form. He was curled up into a ball. With a click of his fingers, Newt's suitcase popped open.

"You'll be safe in there, Credence," Newt coaxed him. "No one will hurt you, I promise."

As Credence warily edged toward the case, Grindelwald began to laugh.

"Safe? Impossible. Not with an obscurus living in your belly, fighting to get out!"

Grindelwald attacked Credence, and Newt countered, jumping between them, his shield dropping. MACUSA joined in, but even with their help, Grindelwald was making progress forward, downing aurors left right and centre. Despite his years, Newt had never studied battle magic, and was not good enough to beat him. Creatures had always been his speciality.

When Grindelwald was distracted by a lance of lightning conjured by Piquery, Newt launched his swooping evil. Grindelwald's wand was knocked from his hands as he was captured. A hastily cast a 'revelio' peeled away Grindelwald's stolen face and showed his true one.

"Do you think you can hold me?" Grindelwald asked them, and laughed and laughed and laughed.

* * *

 

"Third time lucky?" Tina said with false cheer. She'd been eying him nervously ever since the duel with Grindelwald, when he'd been revealed to be an 'immortal' – someone who'd been waiting for their soulmate for centuries, or in Newt's case, millennia. Most magi found their other halves in their own life times, and lived the usual span of a hundred and fifty years.

"Let us hope," Newt said wearily. They'd identified two other of Grindelwald's safe houses, but neither had contained the real Percival Graves, presumably imprisoned. Newt had offered the services of his arator – a creature that could sniff out magic, and they'd been hunting Grindelwald's unique scent across New York together. In return, MACUSA had laid no claim to Credence, and Newt had been caring for him as gently as he could.

Tina busted in the door, and a team of aurors followed her in, Newt taking up the rear. Technically, he didn't need to be present for this part of the investigation, but so far no one had told him that he couldn't come along.

A pained groan, almost animal in nature, had Newt sprinting up the stairs. Percival Graves lay chained to a wall. He looked to be in his forties – impossible to tell his age if he'd not yet met his soulmate.

"Alohomora," Newt hissed, and Graves' arms fell from the now open manacles to his side. Newt pulled a selection of healing potions from his pockets, and set about helping the other man.

He wrapped his fingers around Graves' wrist to take his pulse, and then their skin began to glow, as if lit from the inside. Newt felt rejuvenated – he felt the thirty he'd been when he'd stopped aging.

Despite knowing that only Newt's hand could strike the killing blow, Newt frantically began feeding his new-found soulmate potions, as he'd now been made mortal, and could die from natural inflictions that would only be worsened by Grindelwald's treatment of him.

Graves' eyes flickered open. "Huh," he rasped. "I was just beginning to think I'd be middle aged forever."

"Shush," Newt murmured, and stroked back the hair from his forehead, beaming down at him. "Save your voice. You're safe now, with me."

Graves narrowed bloodshot eyes. "You're definitely older than I am," he accused.

"Only a few years," Newt said lightly. "Now sleep. I'll be there when you wake up, I promise."

There was a soft smile upon Graves' face as he closed his eyes, and he gripped Newt's hand tight. Newt stayed there, and with him, even as they transported him to hospital, and the tiredness that had weighted down his heart for years began to fade away.

 


	26. His Other Half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Anything you write on your arm appears on your soulmate's arm.

Today's ink was sea green, and Newt began doodling the outline of the swooping evil on his inner forearm. His soulmate rarely replied, but it seemed that this was going to be one of his lucky days. Flawless calligraphy appeared in black ink beneath the sketch.

_What in Merlin's name is that?_

Newt smiled.  _A swooping evil,_  he scrawled, and began adding the finer details of the spindly spines along its back.

_That sounds exactly as horrible as it looks to be._

Newt chuckled to himself.  _Its preferred diet is human brain, but I've managed to wean mine onto a substitute of pig._

 _You keep one of those things!_  Came the hastily scribbled reply. Newt gently traced the outline of the letters on his arm.

_I am a magizoologist._

_So you've told me._

Newt continued drawing, leaving their conversation at that. Whatever his soulmate's job – whoever he was – he was a very busy man, and rarely had the opportunity to converse.

However, it seemed that today was different.  _I'm an auror. Head of –_

There was missing text where the magic of the soulmate had decided that the information was too personal, would lead too easily to the discovery of their other half. Newt glared at his arm, as if it was the one at fault.

 _I'm currently travelling to America, on the HMS Temersi,_  Newt decided to share. Perhaps it would go through, perhaps it wouldn't.  _I'm hoping, that since I couldn't find you in England, I'll find you abroad._

 _I hope you find me too, wherever you may be._  Newt stared at the letters, and felt his heart swell. He'd spent years travelling, and might possibly spend years more in the search of his soulmate, but it was times like this that made it all worth it. He drew one half of a heart, and waited. Moments later, his soulmate filled the other half in. Newt shivered as he brushed his fingers along their combined promise of trust and devotion, and smiled.


	27. Blind Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Soulmate finding agencies/matchmakers/websites etc

"Theseus," Newt whined. "Do I have to?"

"Yes," Theseus replied, with a roll of his eyes. Merlin, little brothers were more trouble than they were worth. He pointed to the armchair, then withdrew his wand "If you don't sit down, and stay, I'll stick you there."

Newt reluctantly curled up into the cushions, and pulled the parchment and quill toward him. At least he seemed to be mildly amenable to Theseus' plan.

"This is probably the most embarrassing thing I've ever done in my life," Newt declared, but he got to work writing down what was hopefully his better qualities.

"More embarrassing that performing an erumpent mating dance in the middle of New York?" Theseus challenged.

"Oh yes." Newt was still scribbling away, and so missed Theseus rolling his eyes for the second time.

"Your priorities are fucked up," he muttered. When Newt seemed to be done with his parchment, Theseus snatched it away from him. The list read;  _Good with animals – especially magical creatures. Has ten OWLS. Skinny._

"You've only written three things!" Theseus grabbed Newt's quill, and added to the list.  _Nice smile, quick with a wand, very tidy, can cook, great arse._

"Theseus!" Newt squeaked, and lunged for the letter.

Theseus jumped away from his little brother, and sprinted for the owlery. "Nice try!" he called over his shoulder. "Take this to Lovegood's Good Loving, please," he asked his favourite owl, Hermes, who seemed to hoot in amusement before taking off. Newt arrived behind him moments later and watched the owl and parchment fly away, a forlorn expression upon his face.

"You're a meany," Newt said. "And I hate you."

"Ouch," Theseus replied dryly.

* * *

Percival stared at the letter in his hand.

_Dear Mr Graves,_

_A match has been found for you! Through the liberal application of tea, magic, and intuition, Lovegood's Good Loving has found your other half. A date has been arranged for you to meet…_

"TINA!" he bellowed. His number two raced in, and blanched upon seeing the insignia upon the envelope on his desk. She looked at him, and gulped.

"What is the meaning of this?" he hissed.

Impressively, Tina stood firm, and spoke clearly. "An opportunity for you to meet somebody, perhaps even your soulmate."

"I see." Percival was not impressed. "And who give you the authority to do this?"

"Madam President," Tina said with a wince, and Percival's jaw dropped.

"Out," he snarled. She scarpered. Moments later he was striding through the fireplace, and straight into Seraphina's office. He slammed the letter down on her desk. She didn't look up from the report she was reading until he'd paced the length of her room twice.

"Really, Percival, I thought you'd appreciate the opportunity to get away from all of us, at least a little," she said.

"You set me up on a blind date! Using a dating service!"

"Yes," Seraphina replied. "And they've got a 100% success rate."

Percival paused. "Really? That can't be right."

The President shrugged. "Treat it as an investigation if you like. But Percival – give it a try. Since the… incident, you've barely left the office. It would be good for you to get out, socialise with someone that you don't also have to work with."

Percival huffed, and stalked out of her room. He picked the letter up from her desk, on the way.

* * *

Newt waited anxiously by the Bethesda Fountain, wearing his customary peacock blue coat, and looked for a man wearing a navy scarf with business robes. He turned on one foot, and bit back the urge to hum. There was a man in a bowler hat nearly as tall as him, a girl with auburn hair coifed like Queenie's, and Percival Graves…

Newt froze. He placed his hand on his wand, and tried not to stare.

Tina had written saying that Director Graves had been found, and returned to work only weeks later. So, it probably was the real Percival Graves who was making his way straight toward Newt.

"Hello, I'm Percival Graves," Percival Graves said when he was close enough. He offered his hand, and Newt stared at it, then suddenly realised he ought to shake it, which he summarily did.

"Oh, erm, hi," Newt said, and realised Percival probably didn't actually know who Newt was.

"That really is a magnificent shade of blue." Percival gestured to Newt's coat.

"Thank you," Newt stuttered.

"I've made a reservation somewhere just a few blocks from here. I hope that wasn't too presumptuous."

That was when Newt realised that Percival was wearing a navy scarf over a business robe.

"Oh."

Percival began to frown. "It was, wasn't it. Merlin's balls, but it's been a while."

"No! I mean, yes!" Newt winced. "Look, I'm sorry. Err, can we start again? My name's Newt Scamander, and I met you when you weren't, well, you."

Percival's face shuttered. "I see."

"But I didn't know!" Newt continued. "I mean, my brother set me up on this dating service, and I just received the owl with the time and place and I didn't realise it would be you!"

Percival ran a hand through his hair. He seemed tired, and Newt felt impossibly guilty. "And now you do know, I suppose you're not interested."

"What!" Newt exclaimed. "No! – I mean, yes, I am interested."

After a few moment's silent appraisal, Percival arched a brow. "Alright… so, dinner then?"

Newt, having thoroughly embarrassed himself, grasped at that life line. "Yes please."

Percival offered him his arm, and Newt accepted. "Newt Scamander," Percival mused. "Why do I know that name?"

Newt winced, and wondered how exactly he should began explaining all the events of the last time he'd been in New York.

* * *

'Lovegood's Good Loving' is a dating service that I have stolen from the fic [Take Our Time](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2084568) by Lary.


	28. Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Soulmates in a world where the concept is so rare, they'd be banished/shunned/experimented on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for torture and major angst!

**~ _And I'd give up forever to touch you, 'cause I know that you'll feel me somehow ~_**

After a day of torture, in which they tried to force Percival to tell them who his soulmate was, Percival was finally returned to his cell. He curled up on his mat, and closed his eyes, hugging his arms to his body in an attempt to stop his hands from shaking. Cautiously, he extended his mind.

_'Newt?'_

There was a long pause before Newt replied. _'Hello Percival. How are you today?'_

Newt's voice in Percival's mind sounded strange, worryingly so.

 _'Same old,'_  Percival replied. ' _Are you okay?'_

There was an even longer pause.  _'Yeah, of course.'_

 _'I don't believe you.'_ Percival shivered, and twitched as a pulse of pain shot through him.

' _I'm performing a mating dance with a horny Erumpent, if you must know,'_ Newt replied, sounding stressed. Percival smiled. He could almost imagine it – Newt waving his arms about and rolling around on the floor.

_'Don't let me distract you.'_

_'No! You're not distracting me. I promise. Don't go.'_

_'Alright,'_ Percival soothed. ' _Tell me about today's adventures.'_

_'Well, first, my niffler escaped in Central New York…"_

Percival allowed himself to relax to the sound of his soulmate telling a story, alive, and happy, and getting up to mischief, and most importantly: free.

_**~ You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be and I don't wanna go home right now ~** _

_'I love you, you know,'_  Percival suddenly thought, even as Newt explained how his muggle friend had helped him find Central Park. Newt fell silent for a frighteningly long amount of time.

' _Percival,'_ he said, agony in his tone. ' _Don't say that, please.'_

_'But I do. I don't care that we've never met. You're everything to me, do you understand?'_

_'Percival,'_ Newt repeated _. 'Oh Percival. I love you too.'_

Tears trickled down Percival's face, and he quickly wiped them away, not wanting to give his captors any part of him that they hadn't taken.

 _'Stay safe for me, my love,'_ he thought.  _'Promise me that. Promise to stay safe, and free.'_

_'Percival! I… I promise."_

**_~ And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming or the moment of truth in your lies ~_ **

Newt glared up at his captors, Grindelwald standing over him with a smirk upon his face, his wand held idly in his hand, as if moments before he'd not been using it to perform one of the Unforgivables.

"You can tell him, of course, that I've captured you. I know you want to." Grindelwald said with a sly smile. "But then I'd have to kill him, for you would have ruined my experiment, and what use would he be to me then?"

"I hate you," Newt spat, and then screamed as Grindelwald crucioed him, and it felt as if electricity was searing through his body, and endless agony.

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, he thought, and then to Percival; ' _I love you, I love you, I love you.'_

_**~ When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am ~** _


	29. Too Good To Be True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: A mix of all - a world where everyone finds their soulmate in a different way.

"You're just too good to be true…"

Tina twitched, then turned to stare as her boss, Director Graves, sauntered through the mess of desks sprawled about the DMLE. He was – no other word for it, really – singing.

"Can't take my eyes off of you…"

She blinked, then rubbed her eyes, then her ears. Yup. He was still singing, and rather well, she had to admit.

"You'd be like heaven to touch…"

Beside her, Newt started to squirm, and she wondered if her friend was so empathetic that he was embarrassed for Graves, as it seemed that Graves certainly had no shame.

"I wanna hold you so much…"

As Graves drew near, she realised he was looking at them. Right at them. Tina's jaw dropped, and she really hoped that there was some stunning witch standing behind her. She checked. No such luck.

"At long last love has arrived…"

"Percival!" Newt burst out. "Stop!"

Tina stared at Newt, then at Graves, then at Newt again. She was sure she'd never introduced them.

It seemed that she hadn't had to.

"Don't like my singing, darling?"

Newt folded his arms and glared at her boss. "Not when I'm visiting my friend – your subordinate – at work."

In fairness to Newt, every auror in the room was gaping at the pair of them.

Graves grinned and stepped forward, closing those last few yards between them. He brushed a kiss over Newt's knuckles, and Tina caught sight of Newt's usually well-hidden soul mark underneath his sleeve.

Inscribed in Graves' elegant calligraphy were the words;  _you're just too good to be true_.

It explained a lot, and was a damn sight better than her useless soul mark - an unfinished circle. She wondered what words Graves had in return, before abruptly realising that it was none of her business. Politely, she cleared her throat.

Newt was beet red when he turned back to her. "Er, sorry about that. Me and Percival, we're well, we're soulmates."

"I hadn't guessed," she drawled, then winced when Graves glared at her.

"I've come to steal you away," Graves said seriously. "Have lunch with me, darling."

"I'm not sure I should. It would be encouraging your behaviour – positive reinforcement, you know?" Newt said, but there was a smile upon his lips and a twinkle in his eyes.

Tina realised that she was witnessing them flirt.

"I have to go!" she said hurriedly, and fled her work station for the safety of Queenie's desk several floors below.

* * *

_50 Minutes Later_

Percival grinned into Newt's hair as the other man panted beneath him, and gently bit at the sweaty nape of his neck.

"Percy," Newt sighed, and twisted around for kiss, which Percival happily granted him, shifting so that only one hand was propping him up on his desk, the other tangled in Newt's golden locks.

"And I thank Merlin you're alive," Percival whispered into his ear, biting back a chuckle.

Newt groaned, and squirmed away from him. "Won't you ever stop singing that song?"

Percival allowed him to pull free and pushed himself upright. "Never," he declared. With a sweep of his wand he made himself presentable and watched as Newt sadly did the same. "Pardon the way I stare, there's nothing else to compare."

Newt blushed beautifully, then turned with narrowed eyes. "Percy…" he threatened, pulling out his wand.

Percival smirked. "The sight of you leaves me weak!" he called, and dodged Newt's warning spell. This time, he didn't hold back his laugh. "There are no words left to speak…"

"Percival!" Newt growled.

"But if you feel like I feel, please let me know that it's real," Percival sang, and ducked under another spell. He tackled Newt, snatching away his wand and drawing him close. "You're just too good to be true, I can't take my eyes off of you," he whispered.

Newt, at first tense, slowly relaxed in his arms, warm and soft against him. "You're impossible," he said, and Percival shivered as he spoke the words that matched ones on his arm.

"Your impossibility?" he asked hopefully, and pecked Newt on the cheek.

"Oh, alright then," Newt said, sounding wonderfully fond, and Percival knew he'd never be happier than when he had his soulmate in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You by Franki Valli and the Four Seasons
> 
> I hope this makes up for previous angst.


	30. Mate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: creature mates

"Come in!" Newt called, scribbling away at a piece of parchment. He glanced up briefly – it was Percival, one of the junior aurors that MACUSA had only just promoted out of his probationary period.

"One mo," he said, trying to remember whether Occamy could digest cinnamon, then shook his head. Of course they couldn't, it gave them colds, a foolish mistake, really.

"Mr Scamander," Percival panted.

Newt froze. He looked up, properly. Flushed skin, hands shaking, sweating like nobody's business, Percival was coming into his creature inheritance.

"Oh, my darling," Newt purred, dropping all thoughts of his paperwork. He took Percival by the hand and led him to the sofa. "Just sit there, and breathe, can you do that for me?"

Percival hummed his agreement, and sank into the couch, curling up as much as a person could do without laying down. With a flick of his wand, Newt summoned them both peppermint tea, and then seated himself next to Percival.

"There you go."

Percival drank only after seeing Newt take a sip from his own mug. He nuzzled Newt's arm, and then sighed in contentment.

Newt tensed as his own body responded, his creature purring in the back of his mind. He stared at Percival, noting the similarities – pointed ears, narrowed pupils, and cat-like behaviour, amongst others.

For Newt was half-sphinx. He'd not thought another existed in the world. Obviously, he was wrong.

Percival chuffed, drawing him closer, eyes slipping closed as he fell asleep, overwhelmed by the changes to his body. Newt tried to gather himself, but failed. Instead, he relaxed against Percival, as Percival relaxed against him. When he tried to squirm away, Percival just tugged him nearer.

"Mate," Percival growled, before falling back into his doze. Newt arched brow, and looked at Percival for what felt the first time.

He was impossibly handsome, something Newt tried not to recognise about anyone. And he was kind, Newt knew, for whenever Newt missed lunch Percival would always be there with an apple or the like. Newt shivered, and couldn't hold back his smile as Percival's hands tightened around his waist.

Perhaps it was time that he found his mate.


	31. love, love, love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Free for all. Any soulmate idea you want to repeat or one that I haven't included.  
> Used - first words

After discovering that the only person to realise that the mass murdering maniac wearing Percival's face was actually Grindelwald was a Brit that subsequently disappeared off the face off the earth, Percival decided MACUSA could go fuck itself, and that he needed a new career. He even left the country – a bit of an extreme reaction, perhaps, but he felt that it was warranted. He opened a B&B in New Zealand, and while it was a bit touch and go at the start, he found that he was good at it, and, even better, he enjoyed it.

Occasionally he brushed his fingers against his soulmark, messy scrawl in blue ink along his collar bone, but he was a man well into middle age, and it wouldn't do to get caught up over something – or somebody – he might never meet.

It was for that reason that he eyed his new guest with interest. He was younger, but not too young, handsome, with copper hair, green eyes and a look about him that suggested mischief. Percival tried not to drool.

The man approached with a bewilderingly cute frown upon his face, then tripped over his feet, sprawling to the floor, his suitcase clattering to the ground with him.

"Don't let anything escape!" the man cried, and Percival froze.

Those were his words. And hadn't he heard about some sort of suitcase?

"I know you… the man with a case full of fantastic creatures?" Percival said. The man blinked up at him, mouth gaping.

They stared at each other in shock. Almost subconsciously, Percival touched his collar bone, and it jolted him into action.

"Fuck, are you okay?" he hauled the other man to his feet. "Scamander, wasn't it?"

The man blushed. "Yes, that's right. And I presume you're Percival Graves – the real one, that is."

Percival grinned. "As real as you are."

Scamander shuffled his feet, half his mouth quirked into a smile. Then his gaze caught on his suitcase, and he dived for it. One of the latches hand come undone.

"I must get that fixed," he muttered to himself.

Percival bit back a laugh, remembering the fallout of the chaos caused by Newt's beasts escaping. He almost felt fondly of the case and its creatures, seeing as how they'd eventually led to his rescue.

"How long are you planning on staying?" he asked.

"Forever," Scamander said dopily, then blanched. "Oh – Merlin, I mean, only if you want me to? Not that I don't want to – I do, but-"

Percival interrupted him with a kiss. "I think I'd like that," he said, and smirked as he felt Newt smile against his mouth. "Very much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE... BUT I WASN'T. 
> 
> This is it, I'm afraid. Thank you so much to everyone who has commented or added kudos or just read this collection of drabbles, I hope you've enjoyed it! Please feel free to comment - let me know which chap was your favourite, or if you'd like me to make any of these into something longer. No promises, ofc, but I'm tempted by a few of them!


	32. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lady Rogue picks up soulmate!AUs for Newt/Graves.

I am so sorry to be that person that's posted a new chapter and  _it's not a new damn chapter of writing._

I'm starting a [Volume 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15556467) of Newt Scamander/Percival Graves Soulmate Drabbles and One Shots. There's two chapters already and many more to come.

Click [Here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15556467) And also [RIGHT HERE!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15556467)

I'll stop with the links, however I thought those that faithfully followed me through a month of soulmate!AUs a year ago might appreciate reading a few more.

Thank you all!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, and thanks for reading. Find me on [tumblr](https://theroguehuntress.tumblr.com/) if you wanna chat, or feel free to comment!


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